


Gentleman of the Evening

by heatgeneratingtechniques



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Boss/Employee Relationship, Emotional Baggage, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-10-07 12:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10360521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatgeneratingtechniques/pseuds/heatgeneratingtechniques
Summary: Link runs a highly rated escort service in a city where such luxuries are popular. He hires a tall man who catches his eye and soon falls for him, but his attraction may be more trouble than it's worth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [missingparentheses]() for beta-reading this! :D The rating will change as future chapters get added.
> 
> Unlike past fics, this one will definitely NOT be updated daily. I got impatient and wanted to post it before it was finished...so here's some of what I have so far. :)

As the sun sank from view on the horizon, bathing the city in long shadows and crimson hues, Link similarly descended from his penthouse apartment. He tightened the scarf around his neck against the early spring chill as he walked, his face grim at the prospect of the night ahead.

There were several strip clubs he needed to visit tonight. All for work, of course. He desperately needed to hire someone new.

The next few hours were a whirlwind of lights, gyrating bodies, headache-inducing music. Link saw several stripteases that seemed mildly interesting, some that were unexpectedly tame, and some that were downright boring. He was sorely tempted to buy a lap dance for his troubles, but the thought of spending money frivolously made him cringe. He kept looking.

The moon was high in the sky when he finally paused for breath in an alley between two clubs, discouraged thoughts creeping in as cold as the night air. His head was pounding now, but after a few moments of fumbling in his pockets, he realized that he’d left his bottle of aspirin at home.

_Shit._

This was the fourth night that Link had given up sleep to scout for a new escort. If he couldn’t find someone suitable soon, he’d have to start turning clients away, and that was something that Charles Lincoln Neal _did not do._ His fellow agents had suggested that he use an employment agency to find someone new. There were many experienced escorts, especially in this city. But Link didn’t like hiring experienced escorts. Too many of them were too set in their ways, unwilling to change to meet his standards. He preferred hiring from strip clubs, taking someone comfortable with attention and refining their manners until they became the unique type of companion that his clients loved.

With a sigh, Link emerged from the alley, his hands in his pockets. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, torn between thoughts of curling up in bed and the satisfaction that crossing this item off his to-do list would bring. The street was empty except for a few lone drunks lounging at the corner and a trio of giggling girls running past him barefoot.

The muffled bass line and thumping rhythm of music from the strip club behind him was steady, insistent. He couldn’t go home yet. He had a job to do.

The blinking neon letters of the club behind him promised the best show in town. Link highly doubted this, but at this point he didn’t care. This club was one that he hadn’t visited in months, so maybe there would be someone new here.

After dithering on the sidewalk for a while longer, he squared his shoulders and pushed his way inside. The volume of the music doubled immediately as he opened the door, his head throbbing in response. Link showed his work ID—a card announcing that he was Charles Neal, escort service owner—to the heavy-lidded bouncer smoking a cigarette by the door. The man waved him through the doorway without a second glance.

Inside, he sighed. The air smelled the same as most other clubs, thick with the smell of alcohol and frustration and _sweat_. The lighting from the sconces set into the walls was nice, though. Bright enough to set the mood, but dim enough to hide the fact that several of the patrons were very drunk. A substantial crowd was gathered around the low stage set in the far wall, cheering a pale, tutu-wearing man through a series of awkwardly executed gyrations in time to techno music piped through speakers on either side of the stage. Link let his eyes linger for a moment, but shook his head almost unconsciously. This man was nothing special.

The song finished, and the man onstage bowed jerkily and escaped behind the curtain. Link went to the bar and asked for water, which drew a raised eyebrow from the bartender, but thankfully no other comment.

As Link accepted his glass of water, the next act of the show began with slow, sultry music. Link’s eyes flicked to the stage in time to see the curtains gently parted, revealing three men dressed in draping black clothing that shimmered in the light. The man in the middle caught Link’s eye immediately; he was one of the tallest that Link had ever seen, with dark blond hair and a full beard.

Link watched critically as the three began their striptease and dance. The two shorter men knew their moves well, swaying around the stage in the confident way of someone repeating a dance done many times before. The tall man danced more stiffly, but the intensity of his face never wavered. Link watched him thoughtfully.

 _This_ was certainly new.

The music tempo quickened. The tall man took center stage, flanked by the others. He hooked a thumb into his waistband and pulled it down _just_ enough to elicit an encouraging cheer from the audience. Link was so focused on judging his moves that he flinched when the shorter men took hold of the tall man’s pants and completely ripped them off.

There were cheers, applause, and someone yell for him to “take it all off.” Now the tall man wore an absurdly tiny pair of gold shorts that shimmered as he strode across the stage, showing off an equally absurd length of slender leg. He looked out at the audience for a moment. He seemed to be daring anyone to challenge him, daring someone in the crowd to show him something better than the body he was currently strutting across the stage.

Link was impressed.

One of the other dancers sashayed up behind him and yanked his shirt off to more cheers.

The man turned in place and rolled his head slowly, his eyes sliding closed, the fingers of one hand running through his own hair. Link’s eyes were drawn to his other hand, as it slowly slid down his side, tugging his shorts down once again, _just_ enough to expose the trail of hair beneath his navel.

For a second, there was uncertainty. Was he going to strip naked right there on-stage? Link observed the pause, observed the way the man’s hands slowed to a tantalizing halt. He waited, intrigued.

But with a smirk, the tall man snapped his waistband and the pounding music abruptly ended. He turned on his heel and strode—no, Link frowned as he realized that the man was _limping_ —offstage, the other two men following quickly behind him.

Another song began as someone else was introduced, but Link was already asking the bartender if he could speak to the owner of the club.

~

As the club’s owner led him backstage, Link tried to settle on the best course of action. This man—the Southern Giant, the bartender had called him—had a unique air about him, something about his fierce gaze and impressive height that could make him a very popular companion if Link played his cards right. He hoped the man would be able to pass his vetting process. He didn’t want to miss another night of sleep after this.

“Never thought someone like you would want someone like him.” the club owner, a thin, balding man, said as they passed through a narrow hallway lined with doors, some closed and others ajar. Link caught sight of men in garishly bright outfits laughing in one room.

“Why not?” Link asked. “Is he difficult to handle?”

“He’s a real quiet one. I thought escort services went for the more flamboyant types. He doesn’t cause trouble though!” The owner stopped outside one closed door and rapped on it. “McLaughlin?”

There was the sound of a dresser drawer slamming shut from within, a low voice following it with a tired, “What?”

“Just open the door,” the owner said, exasperated. “You got someone who wants to talk to you.”

A pause, followed by the sound of a bolt being shot back. The door swung open and the Southern Giant himself glared down at them. He was wearing a tattered blue robe now, cinched tightly closed around a surprisingly narrow waist. A black ring hung on a thin chain around his neck.

Up close, a little of the magic faded for Link. The man’s face was pale, and his hair looked to be on the tangled side of unkempt. As he leaned on the doorframe, he looked almost on the verge of falling over. But his eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked from the owner to Link.

“Who is this, now?” His voice held a faint drawl that unexpectedly softened his voice.

“Someone important,” the owner said. “Be nice.” To Link, he added, “I’ll be up front if you need anything,” before striding back up the hallway.

Now that they were alone, Link fell back on the oft-spoken official script.

“I’m Charles Neal and I run an escort service here in town,” he said. “I’ve been looking for new employees. Your show tonight caught my attention, and I’d like to know if you’d come work for me.”

“Really?” The tall man huffed out a mirthless laugh. “What part did you like? When I was flailing around the stage or when the guys ripped my clothes off?” He was grinning now, but there was no humor in his expression, just teeth. “Or maybe you like my legs? Everyone goes crazy when they see those. You want another look?”

Link refused to play along. He wasn’t in the mood for games while his head was still aching. “Your dancing could use some work,” he said coolly. “And I’ve seen plenty of nice pairs of legs before. I just wanted you to work for me since you’re so tall.”

“Ha!” The man shook his head. “Of course. That’s right. I'm six foot seven, and don't you forget it.” He passed a hand over his face, and Link heard him mutter, “The ol’ height gets ‘em again.” He straightened suddenly, his eyes fastening on Link again, “You said escort service so... what, am I gonna be some old lady’s paid boyfriend or something?”

Link shook his head. “I arrange for escorts to spend time with clients, in exchange for a fee that they split with me. I work with very high profile clients. You’d be attending a lot of parties.”

The Southern Giant grunted. “I don’t like parties.”

Link tried a different tack. “Why are you working here?” He searched the tall man’s face. “‘The Southern Giant.’ I hear an accent, so you’re not from around here, correct? Did you come here to see the city, or do you really like stripping that much?”

For the first time, the man’s expression faltered. “Debt,” he said quietly, before remembering himself and glaring at Link again. “Why do _you_ care?”

“You want to pay your debt off extra quickly?”

The man snorted. “I have a _lot_ of debt.”

“Come work for my escort service and you’ll get to set your own hours and spend time with some of the richest men in the city. No more stripping in dark clubs. You’ll get a much better place to live than this.” Link gestured at the mess of the room visible behind the man. “And a lot of good food, too. Any food you want.” Link was met by silence. “Someone of your size can’t be getting enough to eat here.”

The Southern Giant was tapping one finger on the doorknob now, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“No dancing?” he said.

“Not unless you want that included in your contract.”

“ _Any_ food I want?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“What kind of food do you like?” Link met the challenge with one of his own. “I can get you almost anything, as long as it’s not illegal.”

Another grin, genuine this time. “Nothin’ illegal,” he said. “I just like beans, that’s all.”

Link wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Okay,” the man said. “I’ll take it.”

“Good!” Link extended his hand and the Southern Giant shook it.

“Rhett McLaughlin,” he said. His palms were callused, but his grip was unexpectedly gentle. Instead of letting go, he rubbed a large thumb over the back of Link’s hand and lifted it towards his mouth. His eyes flicked up to transfix Link in place as he pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, the touch of his lips leaving Link’s hand tingling. “At your service, sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

Packing his belongings was a simple task. A few changes of clothes, several pairs of underwear, a toothbrush, and deodorant all fit neatly into one backpack. Rhett hadn’t slept much the previous night after accepting his new job, and he was eager to leave this strip club behind for good. When it was finally time to go, he made sure the ring was secured on its chain around his neck before he left the room that had been his home for the past few months. He didn’t look back. He wouldn’t miss it.

Neal was waiting for him outside, in the backseat of a limo far nicer than any car Rhett had ever driven.

Neal’s gaze fell on his backpack as Rhett climbed inside. “Is that all you’re bringing?”

“It’s all I got, sir.”

“Don’t need to call me sir. Neal is fine.”

“Okay. Neal.” Rhett settled back as the limo drove away. He tried to sneak glances at his new boss as the limo driver navigated the city streets, observing the way Neal sat with one leg crossed over the other. He wasn’t sure what type of person this man was. His clothes were stylish enough: skinny jeans and a close-fitting button-down. His dark hair was swept back from his forehead, his face clean-shaven. Neal gestured with both hands as he talked, describing what they would do that day.

“You’ll move into your rooms first,” he was saying. “Then we’ll get you checked by the doctor and measured for clothes and we’ll go over the contract.”

“Clothes? And rooms?” Rhett repeated. “I get more than one?”

Neal nodded. “All my escorts get two rooms of their own. Bedroom plus a living room, or whatever you decide to call it.”

“Oh.” Rhett had more questions, but he didn’t want to seem too eager. He opted to play it cool for the time being, looking out at the scenery as they passed.

The signs of the red-light district—unlit and garish in the late morning sunlight—soon gave way to glass-fronted shops and row houses. There was traffic as well, the remnants of the morning’s rush hour. Neal began fidgeting as they waited for the cars to move. He removed his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and returned them to his nose, only to repeat the action a few moments later.

“Forgot about the traffic,” he muttered.

The limo slowly crept forward. Neal began picking at his shirt cuff.

“You been in this city long?” Rhett asked.

“Yep!” The word sounded slightly exasperated. Neal cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap. “Almost ten years now. Most of my work is done from home though. I hate traffic.”

“We could’ve taken the subway,” Rhett suggested.

Neal chuckled at that. “What would you have thought if we’d taken the subway instead of a car, though?”

“Would’ve thought you were pretty cheap,” Rhett said.

“Exactly.” Neal began cleaning his glasses a third time, caught himself, and began cracking his knuckles instead. “Now make no mistake, I  _ am _ cheap. Just not for special occasions.”

Rhett looked down at himself, at the torn jeans and faded t-shirt he wore. “Shoot, if I’d known this was a special occasion, I would’ve swiped a nice outfit from costume storage instead of wearing this crap.”

Neal laughed out loud this time, a sound so pleasant and unexpected that Rhett had to smile as well. “Yes, it’s a special occasion! You’re starting a new job. A new life. One that you’ll like, hopefully. And don’t worry about it,” he added lightly. “There’s plenty of time to get you better clothes.”

The rest of the drive passed in silence, but Rhett noticed that Neal had stopped fidgeting.

They pulled up outside the brick facade of a townhouse on a quiet street off the main road. Neal thanked the driver and they both disembarked.

Rhett’s palms were sweating as he followed Neal inside. The townhouse was sparsely decorated with abstract paintings on the walls and elegant furniture on display in the room just beyond the entryway.

“You’ll be sharing this house with Andrew and Efrain,” Neal said as they climbed the stairs. “Justin and Nate live next door.” He led Rhett down a narrow hallway and stopped before an open door. “This is where you’ll be.”

Rhett stepped inside. The room was bigger than he’d expected. And he had  _ two _ of these now? It was so different from his previous living situation, so much more open and spacious, that comparisons seemed ludicrous.

“Thank you,” he managed to say.

“No problem. I’ll let you get settled.” Neal pointed at the door across the room. “There’s a bathroom attached to the bedroom if you need it.”

Rhett remembered something suddenly. “When will I start working?”

Neal grinned up at him. “Not for a little while,” he said, voice strangely gentle. “Relax for now.”

He left Rhett alone then, footsteps retreating quickly down the hallway. Rhett stood for a long moment, eyes wandering around the room. It was empty except for a desk and two chairs by the full-length window, but he could still hardly believe it. This was  _ real.  _ No more sleeping at the club, no more wondering if he’d be able to make it through another performance without limping from the pain in his back. Feeling slightly dazed, Rhett went to explore the bedroom.

It contained a wide bed and a dresser topped with a mirror. There was a bathroom too, but Rhett wasn’t interested in that yet. He kicked off his shoes and sank onto the bed.

He couldn’t believe it. The bed was long enough for him to lie on without his feet hanging over the edge. Rhett lay spread eagle, blinking up at the ceiling. One hand went to the ring on its chain around his neck.

He hadn’t slept in a bed that fit him in a very long time.

Relief came with an unexpected surge of tears.

~

They reviewed the contract a few days later. By then, Rhett had undergone a physical exam, been fitted for a new wardrobe, and had argued with a barber who had insisted on cutting his beard too short. He threw his old clothes away, trading torn jeans for new ones that actually fit and faded t-shirts for sweaters and button-downs.

He met the other escorts too, four men who dressed impeccably and treated Rhett with detatched politeness. Rhett responded in kind. He wasn’t ready to make friends yet.

He and Neal reviewed the contract in Rhett’s second room. His... living room? Sitting room? He wasn’t sure what to call it yet, but he’d think of a name. They sat at the table by the window to finish the remaining paperwork.

Rhett was feeling much better now that he’d gotten new clothes and a few good nights of sleep, his mind full of ideas and half-formed plans now that he no longer had to worry about dancing every night. He waited impatiently as Neal perused the papers before him.

“How have you liked it here so far?” Neal asked, his eyes on the clipboard he’d  brought along.

“It’s good.” Rhett folded his hands in his lap. “So far I’ve just had your people checking me for disease and taking my clothes measurements and trying to cut all my hair off. And feeding me,” he added. “No complaints.”

“Good.” Neal scribbled down a few notes. “The doctor says here that you have... psoriasis, I see. And you’re lactose intolerant?”

Rhett twitched at that. “Why do you need to know–”

“Standard procedure,” was the dismissive response, but Rhett thought he caught a slight quirk of the mouth, a hint of a teasing grin. “You also have lower back issues. Is that going to affect your ability to perform your escort duties?”

“Not if I’m careful.” Rhett cracked a smile of his own. Two could play this game, and he was more than ready to push some buttons. “I’ve had a bad back since childhood. Doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself in bed, though, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“You’re not required to sleep with anyone,” Neal reminded him. “Didn’t you read the contract?”

“It was long and I was tired.” Rhett shrugged. “There’s not much I won’t do if I get some money out of it, anyway.”

Neal paused, pen hovering just above the clipboard as his eyes flicked up to meet Rhett’s. “What do you need the money for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“To pay a debt. I told you.” Rhett’s heart rate was mounting at the question. He didn’t want to talk about this right now. Thankfully, Neal let the subject drop.

The rest of the interview passed quickly. Neal explained that his service was highly rated and catered towards a largely male clientele. Rhett was expected to work four nights a week (with optional daytime availability), undergo regular STD testing, and when the opportunity arose, he was expected to always practice safe sex (the particulars of which were outlined in section B, paragraph 2 of his contract, in case Rhett was curious).

They talked for almost an hour, topics ranging from the type of clients he was comfortable with (any) to the house rules (no clients or visitors allowed without prior approval), Neal asked, “Now do you have any questions for me?” When Rhett shook his head no, he stood up, gesturing for Rhett to join him.

“Before I leave, I want you to show me what you can do.”

Rhett’s face wrinkled in confusion.

“Show me how you’d impress a client on your first meeting. I want to see what we’re working with here.”

Rhett hesitated.

“Come on,” Neal insisted. You’re in a hotel room, just you and a client. How do you make yourself unforgettable to them?”

His voice was almost teasing. Rhett caught that same stifled grin again, that sense that Neal was trying to elicit a reaction from him.

Fine. He’d give Neal something he wouldn’t forget.

Rhett stepped around the table and grabbed Neal’s shirt, shoving him back against the wall. He barely registered the surprise on Neal’s face before he pressed their mouths together.

It was meant to be sweet and brief, like a kiss he’d give a paying customer back in the club. For a moment, he thought Neal would shove him away. But to his shock, Neal’s lips moved readily against his, hands moving to grip Rhett’s shoulders firmly. Neal kissed aggressively, the force of him taking Rhett off-guard. He hadn’t expected this at all.

But before he could move further or find a steady rhythm, Neal pushed him away. His face was quickly reddening, his eyes brighter than Rhett had ever seen. The grin on his face widened, its curve almost mocking.

“Not bad,” he said, his calm voice belied by the color of his face. “But we do need to work on your technique.” He ran a hand through his hair, straightened the wrinkles from his shirt.

Rhett opened and shut his mouth, struggling for words. “What?”

“You’re not the first escort to think I’d be impressed by a quick kiss,” Neal said. “And unfortunately, you kiss like a gasping fish.” He began rolling up his sleeves. “We have a lot of work to do. And  _ no _ , I don’t mean more kissing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up changing this chapter completely when I went back to revise. Funny how that works sometimes. :D


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next month, Link saw to it that his newest escort was kept busy with etiquette classes, physical therapy, and plenty of beans. (Link still didn’t understand this last part.) He checked Rhett’s progress regularly. Despite his confidence in conversation, the Southern Giant had a way of scowling and ducking his head when speaking that bothered Link’s practiced eye. He’d never had a companion as tall as Rhett and wanted him to make a striking impression when he walked into a crowded room.

“First impressions mean everything,” he told Rhett one day after correcting his posture for the third time. Rhett was standing by the window, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed.

“Some of my clients are very picky,” Link continued. “Every little thing you do, from the way you smile to the way you sleep with them, gets matched against the price that’s been paid for you. If they don’t like what they get, then who do you think suffers?”

“You,” Rhett said quietly. “Your reputation suffers.”

Link momentarily faltered. Most companions assumed that they’d be the ones to suffer, and Link would have to explain to them that it wasn’t only  _ their _ reputation at stake if they performed poorly. But Rhett had cut straight to the point, and Link was left with the wind snatched out of his sails.

“Well,” he said. “Yes. Exactly.” He waved a hand. “Put that book on your head and walk across the room again.”

Throughout the training process, Rhett never tried to kiss him again. He quickly followed instructions and adjusted when Link corrected him, his eyebrows close-knit but his mannerisms compliant. He no longer limped now that he worked with a physical therapist every week. Sometimes Link caught himself watching Rhett, wondering what was going on beneath the surface.

He’d had potential escorts try to kiss him before, but never as quickly as Rhett had. It had been a brash move, and Link appreciated the boldness behind it.

He knew some clients would love it.

Outside of checking in with Rhett and his other companions, Link was busy booking new clients for them. He scoped out parties for those interested, keeping a set of professional headshots on his phone for potential clients to swipe through. Generally, he served the same clients – rich men and women of the city who could afford the prices he charged. No one complained about the expense, though. Link’s companions always came highly recommended.

~

“How do I look?”

Rhett tipped his head back and rotated slowly, the fringe of his hair just brushing against his stiff collar. He wore a red-trimmed black suit which had been specially tailored for his slim figure. His shoes were a deep crimson that matched the shade of his suit.

From his spot in the doorway of Rhett’s room, Link raked him from head to toe with a critical gaze.

“Shoulders,” he said finally.

Rhett automatically straightened his posture.

“Better. Now let’s see a smile.”

Rhett clasped his hands before his chest and inclined his head in the slightest bow. He pasted on a smile. “Good evening, Councilman Harvey. Would you care for a drink? A dance? Something–”

“Stop, stop. No smiling.” Link waved him silent. “You can’t fake a smile and it’s painful to watch. Just remember what I’ve been teaching you, and you’ll be just what he wants for tonight.”

“What does he want?” Rhett asked, frowning.

Link couldn’t help his exasperated sigh. “I emailed you the details. Didn’t you read–”

“No.”

Link sighed. “Harvey’s a lonely old man. He likes to talk and not much else.”

A brief nod. “Okay.”

“But remember, if he lays a finger on you without your permission, then...” Link stopped short.  _ Then what? _ He wasn’t a fighter. He worked with companions specifically because it was a steady and lucrative occupation. There wasn’t much opportunity for threats or fights.

He shook his head at Rhett’s expectantly raised eyebrow. “Let’s go.”

Rain was falling gently outside, the cloudy sky clinging to the last remnants of orange sunset as Link ushered Rhett into the waiting limo. It was his custom to accompany his new escorts on their first trips. Other agents sneered at him for this, but he didn’t care. If something went wrong, he wanted to be there to smooth things over instead of sitting in his apartment and fretting the night away.

“We’re fancy tonight,” Rhett noted, one hand absently patting the leather seat beside him.

“Of course.” Link sat across from him and folded his hands. “Harvey’s paying.”

“He wants to talk to someone that much?”

Link pretended to look hurt. “You don’t think I didn’t talk you up as much as I could?”

Rhett huffed out a laugh. Link tried to think of something else to say, but Rhett’s attention was fixed on the lights of the buildings they passed. 

At the party, Link was a bundle of nerves. It was a classy affair held in the ballroom of an opulent hotel, guests in bowties and gowns laughing and talking while a string quartet played Vivaldi lightly in the background. It was hosted by a popular inventor whose delicate little machines were on display all throughout the room.

Any other time, Link would’ve enjoyed himself, chatting with the inventor and his friends, learning the purposes of the tiny machines that popped and whirred in their display cases. But tonight, he stayed by the bar, nursing a drink that tasted as bad as he felt.

Rhett was at the other end of the room, nodding absently to a small knot of brightly dressed women who had intercepted him in his way to the hors d’oeuvres table. At his side was Councilman Harvey, a rotund little man with gray hair and an infuriatingly mild demeanor. Link drank and glowered at them both.

He had nothing against Harvey, of course. He’d paired the man up with many escorts in the past and everyone had been pleased. But he hadn’t expected the sight of Harvey and Rhett to bother him so much.

Link began wandering through the room, exchanging distracted pleasantries with friends and acquaintances. His aimless steps finally slowed before one of the machines on display: a tiny porcelain top that scratched out a geometric design on its pedestal as it spun. Absently, he wondered what its purpose was, and what might happen if he poured his drink onto it.

“That’s a good escort you got there, Link.”

Becca – she insisted everyone call her that – joined him, looking as sharply dressed as usual. She always wore perfectly tailored suits to parties, her short dark hair in a contrasting state of artful disarray. She was a city planner and one of the few who called him Link; everyone else settled on either Charles or Neal. Link had a special fondness for her, as she had been one of the first to help him get started with his escort service and was incredibly knowledgeable about the city.

“I like that I don’t need to look for him in a crowd.” Link said, gesturing towards Rhett with his wineglass. “I found him dancing in a club a month ago. They called him the Southern Giant.”

“Hm.” Becca watched Rhett for a moment, took a slow sip of her drink. Finally, she said, “Can I give you some advice?”

He grinned nervously. “What?”

“Don’t shit where you sleep.”

Link almost thought he’d misheard her amidst the chatter surrounding them. “What?” he said again.

“You  _ know _ what I mean. Don’t get carried away with something that will never work. Don’t make things complicated. I’m sure you  _ know _ that getting involved with an employee is a bad idea.”

“What are you talking about?” Link forced out a laugh. “When have I ever gotten involved with an escort?”

“Never. But I’ve also never seen you stare after one of them like a lovesick puppy before either.” She lowered her voice as a group of partygoers wandered up to admire the spinning top. “Be careful, Link.”

Before he could think of a retort, she was gone, swept away on the arm of a woman in a deep green dress. Her fiancée, he recalled. He glowered after Becca’s parting salute and retreated to the bar to get another drink.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” he muttered into his glass. The quote made him laugh to himself. When he remembered the kiss, the way Rhett had shoved him against the wall with a singular purpose, he stopped laughing.

He’d convinced himself that he was nervous for Rhett to do well on his first assignment, but maybe Becca had a point.

As the party waned and guests began dispersing, Harvey put his hand on Rhett’s arm, and whispered something in the taller man’s inclined ear. Link’s fingers tightened on the stem of his glass as he watched the two of them make their goodbyes and stroll out of the room.

The room suddenly seemed to shrink around him. The air was too hot to breathe. He stumbled through the room to one of the side doors that stood open to the night air. He dropped his glass somewhere along the way, but he didn’t care. He just needed to breathe.

Outside, he sank onto one of the iron benches flanking the doors and took some deep breaths.  _ In through the nose, out through the mouth. _ Slowly, the world regained its normal proportions, his mind gradually loosening its hold on the thoughts of what his new escort might be doing.

He was in a small garden area that a few other partygoers had already claimed, judging by the whispers and giggles he heard in the trees and bushes farther along. The rain from earlier that night had long since ended, leaving the stone pathways gleaming and the air smelling clean and fresh.

When he’d first gotten into the business, he’d been warned to keep his distance from the men he hired.

“If you sleep with one of them, the others will get jealous of him being with you, or  _ you _ will get jealous of him being with clients,” Becca had told to him. “I’ve seen this happen too many times. Better keep yourself separate from them.”

Link had brushed her words off with a laugh. He knew this. He  _ knew  _ it. He was a  _ professional. _

Still, a small part of him wondered how another kiss might feel.

Link didn’t realize he had dozed off until he came to with a start. Someone was shaking him gently.

“You’re still here.” Rhett’s voice.

Instinctively, Link flinched away from his touch. He busied himself straightening his dress shirt, fixing his hair.

“Are you okay?” he said quickly before he remembered himself. Rhett’s eyes were red-rimmed and his hair more tousled than usual, but he was grinning. “Of course I am.”

A short while later, they were riding back to the escort house in the limo. Link caught Rhett watching him through half-lidded eyes.

“What?”

Rhett cleared his throat, shaking his head. “You’ve been treating me like I’m made of glass, sir,” he murmured. “Neal,” he added quickly, the word catching unexpectedly in Link’s ears.

“Well.” Link shrugged. “It was your first client. I always make sure that I’m nearby for the first... I wanted to be around in case you needed...” He grasped vainly at the words. “I-I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

They were both silent for a moment. Rhett’s hooded gaze began to make Link feel uneasy.

“Don’t worry about Harvey, sir,” he said finally. “He only wanted to talk.”

Link tried to mask his relief with a nod. “Good..”

“He made us tea. He wanted me to hold him, and he wanted to kiss a little. Then he just talked about work.” Rhett leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. “Nothin’ special. Hell of a lot easier than having to prance around a stage, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Oh.” Link smiled a little in spite of himself. “Good.”

For tonight, the knot in his chest loosened.

~

Harvey soon became a regular client of Rhett’s. He booked most of Rhett’s available times up to two weeks in advance, which Link found amusing. He’d never had a client that interested in one of his escorts.

He never accompanied Rhett after that first party, choosing to keep his distance for once. Relinquishing control was difficult as always with a new companion, but Rhett seemed to be doing well. Clients loved him, raving about his quick wit and sense of humor.

Link didn’t get it.

Rhett never behaved the way he had when they’d kissed during that first interview. He was fastidiously reserved when they spoke, tersely answering Link’s questions. There was rarely any sign of the shameless giant who had stripped off his clothes at that night at the club or shoved Link against the wall and kissed him so boldly.

“How have you liked working here?” he asked Rhett one day. They were in the middle of the ninety-day review he gave to all of his escorts, wanting to make sure that they were happy. He’d worked with unhappy escorts before, when he was first starting out, and had quickly learned that they weren’t worth the trouble.

“It’s good,” Rhett said. He was in his customary position, on the other side of the table with his hands folded in his lap.

“Tell me something about it.”

Rhett squirmed a little at this, enough that Link had to hold back a grin.

“Something wrong, McLaughlin?”

“Why do you want to know about work?”

“Because I care about my escorts,” Link said firmly. “I want all of you to do well. I’m not some back alley pimp or strip club owner. I’m an agent, and I’ve been in this business long enough to understand that the relationship I have with my escorts – with  _ you _ – needs to be healthy or this whole arrangement isn’t going to work. Understand?” Rhett nodded. “Good.” Link sat back from his clipboard, folded his arms. “So tell me something about work.”

Rhett didn’t have much to say about work. He liked it. Work was simple and easy.

“Clients all want to talk about the same things,” he said. “Work or the weather or their love lives.”

Link chuckled at that. “What else is there to talk about with someone you don’t know?”

“Lots of things!” Rhett sat up straight in his chair, his expression suddenly brightening. “Like the future. Do  _ you _ ever think about the future?”

“I think about expanding my business,” Link offered.

Rhett snorted, waved a dismissive hand. “That doesn’t count. Do you ever think about doing something else? Trying something new, I mean.”

Link shrugged. “Expanding my business  _ would _ be something new.”

“See, no it wouldn’t.” Rhett wiped his hands on his jeans before continuing. He was alight with excitement that Link had never seen before. “That’s just more of the same, on a larger scale. Something new would be if-if you decided to sell your business and move away from the city. But that takes imagination,” he said more forcefully, “and  _ nobody _ in this freaking city has  _ any _ of that.”

“Then why did you come here in the first place?” Link interjected before he could go on.

Rhett faltered a little. His gaze dropped to the table between them. “Money,” he said finally.

Link let the silence stretch between them, waiting for Rhett to continue, but he didn’t elaborate further.

When Rhett looked up again, his expression was almost lost. “What were we talking about again?” he asked quietly.


	4. Chapter 4

Every morning, Link showered, ate breakfast while scrolling through the news on his phone, and shambled down the hallway to his office, where most of his work was completed. When he first opened his escort business, he spent his days and nights trawling through the city’s clubs, searching for potential clients. Now that his service was in high demand, the clients were the ones contacting him.

He had four other companions besides Rhett, all in high demand. When he’d first started his business, he’d kept a tight hold over his employees, visiting them daily to make sure they were following the schedules he’d put together for them. It had been nerve-wracking and miserable for everyone involved. He’d relaxed since then, conducting most of his business online now that he’d learned to trust his employees. There was Justin, one of his top-earning escorts, who was considered the most attractive of the bunch with his blond hair and coy smile. Nate, a tall man with soft brown eyes and hair braided in tight cornrows, could drink anyone under the table and then hold debates for hours afterwards. Efrain was loved for his devilish smile and obsession with bondage. And Andrew, the youngest of the group, had a pale scar down the side of his face that many clients found fascinating.

None of them intrigued him as much as Rhett.

On Link’s occasional visits to the escort houses, Rhett was always busy, bustling from physical therapy or running errands to meet with another client. Link’s only chance to speak with him came during a photoshoot he scheduled a short while later.

It had become customary for all of his escorts to have a new series of pictures taken twice a year, photos that Link would use to show his employees off to potential clients. In a rented studio everyone gathered together: escorts, photographer, assistants, and Link. Rhett sidled up to him as soon as he arrived.

“Why do I need more pictures taken?” Rhett asked. The photographer’s young assistants were adjusting the lights and the gray backdrop.

“Standard procedure,” Link explained simply. “People get tired of seeing the same headshots all of the time. Gotta mix things up to keep people interested. Make it sexy, you know.”

A flash of something crossed Rhett’s face, a twitch of the eyebrow, a hint of the massive flirt that he’d been during their first meetings.

“Nice,” he said, almost too quietly to hear. Link opened his mouth to say something else, but Rhett had already left his side to join the other escorts by the racks of clothing at the other end of the room.

The outfits were skimpier this time around: lots of thin shirts and tiny shorts. It couldn’t hurt business to have a few more revealing shots to add to everyone’s portfolios. Link watched critically from his perch on a stool in the shadows, his arms crossed, as his employees took turns posing for the photographer, a gray-haired woman whose vocabulary seemed to consist entirely of, “That’s it! Hold that right there. Perfect!”

Rhett pranced onto the set last. He’d chosen a black fishnet shirt and black shorts almost as tiny as the gold ones he’d worn on stage when Link had first seen him. His face held that same intense scowl as he posed and the photographer snapped away.

He looked good. He knew just how to stand to make himself even taller, to make his face appear even more sharp and wild. Even when he smiled, there was still something intimidating about his face that fascinated Link once again.  _ This _ was the side of Rhett he’d been missing. This was the side that his clients had come to love. He found himself nodding unconsciously along with each of Rhett’s poses, gaze slowly tracing the long lines of his figure.

At one point, their eyes met. Rhett’s tongue flicked briefly over his lips before he turned away. It was only for a moment, so quickly that Link barely registered what had happened. He was left with heart pounding and face burning, barely daring to move.

Rhett had winked at him.

~

After the shoot, when the escorts had left, Link and the photographer spent some time combing through the pictures that had been taken. Ordinarily, Link flipped through pictures quickly, selecting the ones he wanted to show clients without a second thought. Now, however, when he reached Rhett’s photos, he labored over each one. He couldn’t get over how striking the man was. There was the standard headshot, Rhett’s eyebrow raised in an almost flirty expression. Another shot of him in a suit, sitting in a chair with ankles and arms crossed, his sharp gaze burning into the camera. One photo made him pause for a full minute. Rhett’s shirt was open and he was half-turned away, his face wrinkled in a coy expression of shyness as he clutched at the fabric with one hand.

The last photo was one that would stick with Link for a long time. It was a full body shot of Rhett wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and the ring hanging around his neck, his hands on his hips. The lighting of this photo was the most striking of all. Rhett’s face was set in deep shadow, his eyes completely hidden.

He looked imposing, Link thought. Powerful. As if the entire world was under his control.

That night, Link went out to make his rounds of the strip clubs once again. But this time, he wasn’t doing it for work.

He couldn’t sleep.

He thought he just needed to get out for a bit, to distract himself with a bit of fun. But the thought of Rhett’s face wouldn’t leave him. Even when he was in his own private booth, watching lithe male dancers move just on the far side of the glass, his escort was never far from his thoughts.

It wasn’t until later, when he staggered into his apartment with the taste of alcohol still heavy on his tongue, that he finally admitted the truth to himself. He was attracted to Rhett.

A dangerous thought, but one that he couldn’t shake. He stood beneath the shower, letting the hot water wash away the smell of alcohol and sweat. Becca’s words of warning came back to him, but this time Link shut them out. He’d taken risks before, hadn’t he? Borrowing money to start his escort service had been a risk. Moving to the city itself had been a risk.

What made an attraction to his employee any different?


	5. Chapter 5

Rhett was a man who tended towards obsession. Since childhood, life had been a string of infatuations, from the hobbies he so meticulously researched to the documentaries that he’d binge-watched every night. After coming to the city however, his energy had been focused on survival. If an idea had nothing to do with getting him food, shelter, or money, he refused to dwell on it.

But now, he was an escort. Now, he had the luxury of idle time. He wasn’t expected to dance every night of the week. He didn’t need to worry about squirreling money away for food. Most of his concerns were handled by other people. All he had to do was accompany lonely men to parties and occasionally sleep with them.

Every morning after his stretches, he paced the length of his bedroom in his boxers, striding from his bed to the closet doors to the window and back again. He kept going until he was sure that his back had adjusted to movement again and he could walk without a limp. When he dressed for the day, he made sure that the ring around his neck was safely hidden beneath his shirt. Some days he spent with clients, keeping them company on their errands or in their homes. Other days, he had etiquette classes with his fellow escorts or physical therapy appointments.

He managed to befriend his fellow escorts, too. They were a relatively reserved bunch of men, but every now and then Rhett said something that made them laugh.

Life was easy, and Rhett was already bored of it. He had too much time to think, too much time to spar with the sadness that now threatened to invade his thoughts almost daily. As a distraction, he turned his attention to his new boss.

He wasn’t sure what to make of Neal. The man’s smiles were generally paired with sharp words, his eyes impassive behind thick-rimmed glasses. Even after Rhett had shoved him against the wall and kissed him, Neal had taken control of the situation so quickly, restoring order in the well-practiced manner of someone used to the world bending to his will. Rhett had been impressed. He’d never seen someone so unflappable. Naturally, he latched on to the idea of making Neal lose his cool.

The photoshoot provided an unforeseen opportunity. Rhett felt Neal’s eyes on him as soon as he posed beneath the bright lights. He decided to put on a show in return, twirling and posing as if he was back onstage at the club and Neal was just one member of his cheering audience.

The wink was just the icing on the cake.

Rhett saw the change come over Neal almost immediately: darting eyes, fidgeting hands, and... was that a  _ blush _ creeping across his suddenly still face?

Rhett wondered if he could make it happen a second time.

~

“How much longer do you expect to work for me?” Neal asked. They were in Rhett’s room again this afternoon, sitting by the open window, on opposite sides of the desk that had become their customary meeting place. “Your contract with me is only good for three months, and you’ve almost been with me for that long. We can talk about ending it, revising it, extending it, whatever you’d prefer.”

“Well.” Rhett leaned across the table, hands folded, gaze never leaving Neal’s. “Let me think. If I extend my contract, will I get to kiss you again?”

Neal hesitated for just a moment too long.

“Absolutely not,” he said, a slight waver in his voice.

Rhett decided to push his luck.

“I could do other things,” he suggested casually. “Kiss you in other places, I mean.”

Neal bared his teeth. “If that last kiss was anything to go on, I don’t want you anywhere near any of my  _ other places. _ ”

Rhett couldn’t help a triumphant laugh.  _ Touché. _ He settled back in his seat.

“Sorry. Go on.”

“Anyway.” Neal looked back at the papers between them. The pen in his hands was shaking. “Anyway,” he said again,  more loudly this time.

“The contract,” Rhett said helpfully.

Neal scowled but went on. “Is there anything you’d like to change about it?”

“Extend it. I still have a lot of debt to pay off.”

“How much?”

The amount was something Rhett wanted to forget. “Thousands. Another year’s salary, at least.”

Neal thought for a moment. “You’re in high demand. I think we can justify... hmmm, what about a ten percent salary increase?”

_ Ten percent? _ Rhett was speechless. “Um...”

His boss plowed ahead, taking his silence for disapproval. “How about fifteen percent? And you can pick your own clients, too.”

He waited for Rhett to speak, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.” Rhett smiled before he could stop himself. “Thank you. That’s gonna help a lot.” One hand went to the ring around his neck, brushing the metal with a finger.

Neal’s eyes followed his motions. “Does that ring hold special meaning for you?”

Rhett dropped his hand to his lap with a guilty start.

“You don’t need to answer that if you don’t want,” his boss continued in that infuriatingly polite way of his.

“It was my husband’s.”

“Really?” Neal’s teeth showed again. “Here’s another question you don’t need to answer, but I’ll ask it anyway. How does he feel about you kissing other men?”

It was Rhett’s turn to hesitate, to look anywhere but at Neal. He suddenly wished he hadn’t instigated this silent battle; Neal was all too ready to jump on any new information. “I imagine he doesn’t feel very much at all. He’s gone. Passed away over a year ago.”

“Oh.” Neal was quiet for a long moment. Rhett stole a glance at him, only to find his boss nodding thoughtfully. All he said before changing the subject was, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

When the meeting was over and Neal had gone, Rhett lowered his head to the desk and allowed himself a moment of weakness.

There was no relief to be found in tears this time.

~

“So what would you like to do tonight?”

It was the second time Rhett had asked the question from his seat in the chair by the bed. And for the second time, the man – Ian was his name – shrugged and blushed and stammered that he didn’t care. He was a shy twenty-something with blond curls that grew straight up from his head and a pair of soft, perfectly manicured hands. Clearly, he had never spent time with an escort before. Usually, Rhett enjoyed this type of client. He got to take the lead for once, guiding them through the night with easy flattery and gentle suggestions. Tonight, however, he was impatient, restless, wanting nothing more than to get this over with.

“We don’t have to do anything in bed if you don’t feel like it,” he said when it became obvious that Ian wasn’t about to make a move on him. “We can talk, watch tv–”

“C-can we go for a walk?” Ian asked, his face brightening hopefully.

“If that’s what you feel like doing.” Rhett got up from the chair and stretched both arms over his head.

Outside, Ian’s mood seemed to lighten. He’d never done anything like this, he told Rhett as they walked down the sidewalk. He was new to the city and hadn’t made any friends yet. When Rhett asked if he’d gone to one of the city’s many clubs, Ian only shook his head.

“Too noisy,” he said. “And I tried to find someone online a few times, but it’s not the same, if you know what I mean?”

“Mmhm.”

“I heard about the escort service and thought I’d give it a try, but...” Ian laughed, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “It’s one thing to imagine it and another to actually  _ do _ it.” Nervously, he repeated, “I-if you know what I mean.”

Rhett cast a sidelong glance at him. “You’ve never slept with a guy before?”

“N-no, I have!” Ian crossed his arms over his chest almost protectively. “Had a boyfriend for three years. W-we broke up when I moved here though. He wasn’t a fan of the long-distance relationship thing.”

He kept talking, but Rhett’s attention had wandered off once again. It was just after ten on this Friday night, and the streets were alive with people dressed for a night out. They passed a darkened entryway where two people were passionately making out. They were being pretty noisy about it, too. One of them wore a deep green blazer lined with sequins that winked in the streetlamps. Rhett looked away, rolling his eyes. He didn’t understand half of the fashion trends these days.

They stopped at a cafe a few blocks down the street for a quick shot of caffeine. It was Rhett’s idea, a last desperate attempt to stave off the exhaustion sinking into his bones. The smell of coffee, associated with mornings for so long, struck him a wildly out-of-place scent for this time of night as they stepped into the shop. He shook his head. Now was not the time to get lost in daydreams and memories.

As they settled into a booth with coffee cups in hand, the door swung open again, its jingling bell drawing Rhett’s attention in time to see Charles Neal walk through the door.

He was wearing a green, sequin-lined blazer and talking animatedly to the bearded man beside him.

“Uh... is something wrong?” Ian’s tentative voice.

“Not at all.” Rhett scrambled up from the booth, flashing his best escort smile. He suddenly felt wide awake. “I’ll be right back.”

Ignoring Ian’s sputtered protests, he crossed the half-empty cafe to the window seats, where Neal was saying something that made his companion laugh.

“Evening, gentlemen,” he said casually, inserting himself between their chairs. “Nice night for a date, ain’t it?”

Neal reacted just as he’d hoped – wide-eyed shock, flustered stammering, and finally a deadpan expression that would have been more convincing if he wasn’t also blushing furiously.

“Evening, Rhett,” he said, his jaw clenched.

“Who’s this?” his companion demanded.

“One of my... _ employees, _ ” Neal said. He emphasized the last word with a vicious look at Rhett, who beamed at them both.

“I’m working right now, so I can’t stay,” he said, tipping his head towards Ian’s timid figure in the booth behind him. “Just wanted to say that I hope your night is going well, sir. And–”  He clapped a hand to Neal’s shoulder. “–maybe try to be more careful with the PDA. It’s interesting that we escorts are expected to abide by certain levels of decorum, but our bosses get to make out when and wherever they please!”

Neal’s eyes bulged. “Outside,” he said.

“Is something wrong, Link?” Neal’s companion asked.

“No.” Neal slid off his chair, never looking away from Rhett’s face. “Don’t worry, Kyle, I’ll be right back.  _ Outside, _ Rhett.”

Rhett gave a worried-looking Ian a reassuring grin and a thumbs-up.

“Give us a minute,” he called.

On the sidewalk, Neal rounded on him. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed. His words were gentle, but his fists were clenched at his sides in a way that seemed as if he was bracing for a fight.

“Just wanted to tell you some things before I forgot.” Rhett shrugged, keeping his face as bland and innocent as possible. “Why, is something wrong?”

“What do  _ you _ think?” Neal raised a finger to stop Rhett before he could respond. “Listen to me. Just because you’re my best escort doesn’t mean that you can’t get fired for being an asshole.”

“I know,” Rhett said lightly. He leaned against the coffee shop window, his hands in his pockets. He’d gotten the response he wanted. Now he just had to ride out the inevitable lecture, then back to finishing his time with Ian so he could finally go home.

“I can fire you.”

“Heard you the first time.” Rhett lifted his eyes to trace the top of the rowhouses across the street. “Do it if you want. I’ll survive. I just thought it was funny how, after all those classes on etiquette and escort decorum, I find my boss kissing on somebody on the street.” After a moment, he added, “ _ Link. _ ”

Neal flinched at the name. “I don’t have to abide by the same rules as you.”

“Is that your boyfriend?” Rhett asked. “Husband?”

He got a brief head shake in response.

“Escort?” Rhett’s eyebrows rose when Neal didn’t respond. “So you’re a lonely sap who has to pay for sex too. No wonder you run this business.” He grinned. “Do you get a discount, at least?”

Neal rushed at him then, eyes wild. He seized the front of Rhett’s shirt and yanked him down.

Rhett braced himself for a blow that never came. Instead, Neal glared up at him over glasses that had slipped down his nose, his chest heaving.

“You’re not spending the night with your client, correct?” he said finally. His voice had gone strangely hoarse.

“Correct. He only paid for a couple of hours.”

“Good. I think need to show you a thing or two.” Neal pulled him close enough for Rhett to feel the warmth of his mint-scented breath against his face.  “Why don’t you come spend the night with me?”


	6. Chapter 6

Link let the door click shut behind him. The sound was almost too final for his liking. He stood pressed against it, his hands curled around the doorknob behind him. This was it. He finally had a chance to see what all the fuss was about, to get up close and personal with his escort.

For work, of course.

Rhett ventured a few steps further into the apartment, craning his head to take in the high ceilings, the spotless furniture, the nighttime view of the city from the glassed-in far wall.

“Nice place,” he said. “Escort work’s that good, huh?”

“Very good.”

Link had sent away his companion — Karson? Kyle? — after making sure to pay him for his trouble. Rhett had similarly ended his night with Ian. After a silent subway ride, they emerged at the stop near Link’s apartment building and he had almost lost his nerve. He hadn’t expected Rhett to agree to this.

“Why did you want me here tonight, sir?” Rhett asked. He was facing Link now, his hands clasped behind his back. His tone was polite, but there was a wicked curve to his mouth, a lifting of his cheeks that made Link’s face warm.

“Bedroom,” he said as he removed his blazer.

He led the way, Rhett’s footsteps shadowing his.

_ Relax, _ he told himself.  _ This is just for work. _

_ Isn’t it? _

The heat on his face intensified as they crossed the threshold of his bedroom. Link found himself looking at the room from what he imagined Rhett’s perspective to be. Were there smudges on the mirror above the dresser? Had he remembered to make the bed? What would Rhett think of the impressionist landscape paintings he’d hung on the walls because they reminded him of home?

Rhett stood in the doorway, waiting as Link draped his blazer over the chair by the dresser. Just the knowledge of those sharp eyes trained on him was enough to send a thrill of anxiety through Link’s belly. He squelched it with a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he spoke.

“My clients all heap praises on you, Rhett. They tell me you’re the best escort they’ve ever been with. But I’ll admit that I don’t understand why.” Link removed his glasses, folded them, and placed them on the dresser. “They’ve told me how personable and accommodating you are. One person even used the word _ gentle _ . But I haven’t seen any of that for myself. I don’t understand what makes you special.” He tipped his head up, willing away the last of his fear. “For the sake of my business, for the sake of me understanding what my clients want, I want you to show me.”

Rhett’s eyes narrowed. “Last time you said that, I kissed you.” He laughed without smiling. “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”

“Who cares if it was enough?” The words came through gritted teeth. “I gave you a task to complete.  _ Do your job. _ ”

His words spurred Rhett into motion, crossing the room with agonizingly slow strides. Link heard his own breath in his ears, loud and harsh and entirely too shallow. He couldn’t look away from that intense gaze.

Rhett touched him, a soft hand at his elbow. “What would you like—”

“Stop.” The word carried a wealth of frustration, more than he meant to show. Link balled his fists at his sides to keep from trembling. “I don’t want escort games right now. Just show me  _ you. _ ”

“Very well.”

And Rhett kissed him.

That first contact was so gentle that Link found himself almost overwhelmed, aching for more. He struggled with everything he had, resisting the urge to throw Rhett down on the bed, to tear his clothes away and evoke moans from the mouth now ravaging his own.

Rhett’s hands slowly moved down his sides, holding him together at the waist. Link felt weak at the knees and more than a little lightheaded. His own hands found their way around Rhett’s neck, where he held on for dear life. He’d been kissed by people who were rough, aggressive, shy, calculating. He’d been shoved against walls and thrown onto mattresses and had done a fair share of manhandling himself. Never had anyone kissed him with Rhett’s sweet self-assurance.

“Bed,” Link rasped when he could speak again.

Rhett’s chuckle was felt more than heard. “Why so eager, Neal? Foreplay’s half the fun.”

But he moved them to the king-sized bed anyway, guiding Link to lie on his back before climbing atop him. Link felt a genuine spike of fear then. Rhett was so  _ big _ but his hands on Link’s body were warmer and more gentle than he could have ever dreamed and now Link was afraid — oh he was  _ so _ afraid — that this was morphing into something far more than he could handle.

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do?” Rhett asked quietly from his position astride Link’s waist.

Other agents slept with their escorts, didn’t they? Other agents conducted research to judge the sexual prowess of their employees, didn’t they? Link closed his eyes briefly. This was all for the sake of work, all for understand what his clients liked, all under his control. He would be fine.

“Keep it simple,” he whispered. “No penetration.”

Rhett nodded. “Are fingers okay?”

“No. Not ready.” Link didn’t like the feeling of anything inside him either, but Rhett didn’t need to know that. He squirmed a little beneath Rhett’s weight, feeling the warmth already building in his groin. “Get on with it.”

Rhett began unbuttoning Link’s shirt, large fingers clumsy and slow, his brow furrowed in concentration. Link moved to help, but his hands were pushed away.

“Allow me.”

Once freed of his shirt, Link found himself being drawn into Rhett’s lap, his knees on either side of his escort’s hips. It was a strange position for him, one that filled him with a momentary sense of wrongness.  _ He _ was the one who held his partners on his lap, not the other way around.

He let out a soft cry as Rhett’s lips ghosted over his throat.

“Relax.” Rhett breathed the word into his skin. “I can feel your heart beating a mile a minute.” One hand clutched at Link’s groin between him, the action drawing him to arch his back, pushing himself more firmly into Rhett’s grasp. As unusual as Link’s current position was, he had to admit that there was something thrilling about being at the mercy of someone else.

“Touch me,” he rasped, his voice more pleading than he would have liked. Rhett complied, his fingers digging into the fabric of Link’s slacks as he squeezed his hardening cock. But it wasn’t nearly enough. Link unzipped his slacks and frantically kicked them off. He would have discarded his briefs as well, but Rhett stopped him.

“Take your time,” he whispered.

So Link’s hands found Rhett’s shoulders and he brought their lips together as he thrust forward. Rhett let him set the pace, following with firm strokes along his length.

The heat built until he could barely take waiting any more. Rhett’s eyes had gone glassy as well, his arousal increasingly apparent. Link rushed to free him, shaking off Rhett’s calming hands. He had to admit there was a part of him that was curious to see how he compared to his escort.

“Not bad,” he managed, running his fingers along the hardening length before him. Rhett sighed at his touch, spreading his legs to allow easier access.

“Kiss me,” Rhett whispered, his voice a growl that set Link afire. He felt a thrill of pleasure as he obeyed, cupping his escort’s face between his hands. Rhett’s fingers were in his underwear now, his thumb dragging along the underside of Link’s shaft  _ so _ very slowly.

Link wasn’t one to ascribe any special meaning to sex, but this was all so hot and new and  _ good. _

suddenly Link was frantic. He needed more, needed to come now. Briefs were quickly discarded, and now he felt the only thing he needed right now: Rhett’s hardness against his.

He was very close now.

Rhett took hold of them both with one large hand and Link barely managed to bite back a moan. Rhett’s strokes were long and sure, and judging from the catch in his breath, he wasn’t too far behind.

“Gonna come,” Link gasped. “Rhett...”

“Do it.” Rhett’s voice was a low rumble. “Just for me.  _ Do it, _ Link.”

The sound of his name, strange on Rhett’s lips, loosed something within him. His hips thrust a few more times, mouth falling open in a silent cry, and he came with his face buried in the crook Rhett’s neck.

“Good.” Rhett’s hand never slowed its pace, even as his breathing grew ragged. “Very good.”

Link was barely aware of Rhett’s orgasm as he came down from his own. He loved this. He wanted to rest, to bathe in the afterglow, but a low voice intruded on his euphoria all too soon.

“Are you going to pay me to stay the night too?”

In a flash, Link realized that he was lying spent on the body of his escort.  _ His _ escort.

Someone he definitely should not have been sleeping with.

He sprang away from Rhett, his face burning. He felt Rhett’s eyes follow him as he grabbed tissues from the bedside to clean up the mess.

“Anything else you want me to show you?” Rhett asked lazily. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to put his clothes back on, his face still lost in a heavy-lidded haze.

“Go,” Link snapped. “Just go. Get a ride home. Or take the subway. I don’t care.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Rhett right now, choosing to busy himself with gathering up his clothes from the floor. “You’ll get your payment in the morning.”

Rhett said nothing, but Link could just  _ see _ him shaking his head, his face alight with amusement as he got dressed again.

It was only after Rhett had gone that Link finally relaxed. He fled to the shower and stood beneath the water until it ran cold, trying to grapple with what had just happened.

He felt...  _ wrong _ . Not because he’d done anything bad, of course —  _ plenty _ of agents did it! — but because he had gone against his own rules...  _ and he didn’t even care. _

He’d barely gotten to experience Rhett’s touch, but already he wanted more.

Link came to another realization as he burrowed beneath the covers a short while later. Whether this was actually for the sake of research or not, he  _ might _ have miscalculated a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loads of thanks to [missingparentheses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/missingparentheses/) for all of her brainstorming help.
> 
> Writing smut is tough for me sometimes, but I still hope y'all enjoyed it. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Summer descended hot and heavy on the city, bringing with it rooftop parties, all-day festivals, and the thick smell of melting asphalt. Rhett wandered the streets on foot when he could, the sun bleaching his hair and deeply tanning his skin. He found himself most often drawn to the trail by the river that bisected the city — just a few blocks from the strip club where he used to work. On his days off, he spent hours leaning against the metal railing, watching the river pass him by.

Owen had always loved the water.

Summer was the season that he most keenly felt his loss. He’d lost his husband in early June the previous year, three weeks after the doctor clapped a hand awkwardly to Rhett’s shoulder and said he was sorry but there was nothing else they could do. Owen had been remarkably calm at the news, but Rhett remembered waking up from his beside vigil a few days later to see the tears on his face.

The memory still stung.

“What do you think of me now, Owen?” he murmured. His eyes followed the path of a fallen branch as it swept past on the swift current. “We used to laugh at people who got escorts back home. Called ‘em desperate and pathetic. And here I am now, sleeping with strangers, talking like you can hear me, wearing this stuff...” He looked down at the new clothes he wore: short-sleeved gray tee, dark wash jeans, and a pair of Nike high-tops. More stylish than anything he’d ever worn back home. “There just wasn’t any other way for me to pay the bills.” He laughed weakly. “I hope you don’t mind too much.” The wind picked up, spreading ripples across the surface of the water. “Hope you don’t mind Neal, either.”

He fell silent then, his thoughts turning to his employer. Neal had requested his services a few more times, but had never again put himself at Rhett’s mercy as he had that first time. It had been disappointing at first. The sight of his normally sardonic boss transformed into another one of his clients — another lonely man who clung to him and whined for more and kissed so greedily — had been deliciously arousing.

All of that was gone now. Neal arranged for him to come over every week or so. Their most recent interaction had become typical of them: Rhett arrived at Neal’s apartment around 10pm and was quickly led to the bedroom, where Neal told him to get on his knees and get to work.

He was already hard when Rhett felt him through his jeans.

He was _always_ already hard.

“What would you like me to do tonight, sir?” Rhett asked, his voice polite. He tilted his head back so he could look Neal in the eye and found a flash of wide-eyed desperation there. It was covered by an expression of blank indifference too late; Rhett had seen it.

“You know what I want,” Neal snapped. Sweat was already trickling down the side of his face. “And don’t call me _sir._ ”

Rhett’s hands slowed at their work of undoing Neal’s belt. “Why not?”

“M-makes me feel old.” The embarrassed stutter was faint, but it was enough to make Rhett chuckle at having discovered another chink in his boss’s armor.

“Whatever you say, Neal,” he said, and unzipped his pants.

Neal never touched him during these times, choosing to clutch at his surroundings for support. Tonight, he braced himself on the dresser behind him, his head lolling back as Rhett’s lips closed around his cock. Rhett sank down on him slowly, senses quickly filling with the taste and smell of him. With any other client, he let his mind wander, but he focused on Neal, taking note of how he responded to every caress. It never took long for Neal’s breath to quicken, for his balls to tighten in Rhett’s hand. Usually, Rhett pulled off and stroked Neal the rest of the way, but this time he wanted to try something different. He kept his mouth in place, tongue swirling around the shaft.

When Neal came, it was with a sharp snapping of his hips that nearly choked Rhett, a hasty warning that went unheeded. His cock pulsed in Rhett’s mouth as he gasped and fought to keep from making a sound.

He was lost in the afterglow for a moment: chest heaving swiftly, eyes tightly closed. Rhett slowly milked him dry with one hand. He liked observing clients in those moments after orgasm, when they were sated and peaceful. For Neal, however, those moments never lasted long. He always shoved Rhett away with unnecessary force, as if horrified to find himself exposed, angry at needing to be touched. Tonight was no exception.

“Sweeter than I thought you’d be,” Rhett said as he got to his feet again, wincing as his knees protested the change.

Neal’s eyes flicked to him and away again, almost too quickly to catch. “Surprise,” he mumbled, a weak attempt at comedy. He was blushing as he fumbled to fix his clothes with shaking hands. “You... you weren’t supposed to swallow.”

“Sorry. Guess I got a little carried away.”

Neal shook his head. He cleared his throat, removed his glasses, passed a shaking hand over his face. “Th-there’s, um, there’s drinks in the fridge if you want ‘em.”

“I’d rather have a pillow. For my knees.”

“Next time,” Neal said. “Also next time,” he added more briskly, “I better not feel your teeth again. And, I don’t like when you try putting your fingers in my other orifices, either.”

Rhett couldn’t help smirking; his boss was always critical of his technique. “Sorry,” he said again.

He would have said more, but Neal wrapped his arms around himself, right hand clutching his left bicep. His eyes were fixed on the floor.

He never explicitly _said_ when he wanted to be alone, but Rhett could take a hint.

“Goodnight, Neal.”

“Night.” The response was barely a whisper.

Rhett glanced back once as he closed the door behind him. Neal looked fragile, standing there alone. The curve of his back reminded Rhett of someone on the verge of collapse.

Reminded him of those last days with Owen, almost.

Thinking back over that night as he looked out over the river, Rhett grinned to himself. He knew Neal liked him. He could see the signs: the lack of eye contact, the nitpicky criticisms, the lavish payments, the fact that they always met at his home instead of in a hotel or other neutral place. But this was a unique situation. It was one thing to know a client was attracted to him, and quite another thing to know that his employer was.

“Not exactly sure what I should do here, Owen,” he murmured. “I wish you were-”

Rhett broke off before he could finish, swallowing against a sudden lump in his throat. He closed his eyes, took slow, deep breaths in an effort to quell his grief. He’d never cried over Owen in public, and he wasn’t about to start now.

A few moments and the urge to weep passed. He tried to focus on the river again, but the magic was gone now. He wanted to go home. With a sigh, he wiped his eyes dry and turned to walk back to the escorts’ quarters, barely dodging a pair of cyclists as they whizzed past.

He was halfway home when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Neal wanted his company again tonight, but a few hours earlier than usual.

He also asked if Rhett wanted to stay the night.

~

“You asked,” were the first words out of Rhett’s mouth when he entered the lobby of Neal’s apartment building. His boss was pacing by the revolving door.

“What?” Neal was dressed casually for once, a black t-shirt over a faded pair of skinny jeans.

“I work for you. You don’t need to ask me if I want to stay the night. You just need to tell me to do it and then pay me later.” Rhett grinned. “But you _asked._ ”

Neal shrugged and muttered something about not wanting to trouble Rhett since he knew his escort had a busy week ahead. He was a terrible liar, in Rhett’s opinion. The shaking hands and lack of eye contact gave him away immediately.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Rhett asked. “Not going to your apartment?”

“Well.” Neal ran his tongue over his lips. “I-I wanted to get dinner first. Thought it would be nice. To have company, y’know.”

Rhett nodded. Briefly, he thought of asking why Neal didn’t just call up a friend instead, but quickly decided against it. He didn’t dare risk jeopardizing the progress of this new development. If Neal wanted to take him to dinner first, then so be it.

“Dinner” turned out to be a sandwich shop a few blocks away, a bustling place with exposed brick walls and employees who yelled customers’ orders to each other above the general hubbub. They walked there at Neal’s insistence; he didn’t want to pay for a ride when the place was so close by.

“I know it’s not your usual classy date,” he said as they waited in line to order their food. “I just don’t like expensive food much. Ham and cheese tastes so much better than grilled asparagus.”

They secured two stools at the table facing outside, where they could watch the passersby. Rhett dug into his sandwich immediately; he had skipped lunch to walk to the river earlier and was starving. He was halfway finished with it when he realized that Neal was sitting with his hands folded in his lap.

“Something wrong?” he asked, mouth still full.

“No.” Neal chuckled sheepishly, one hand running through his dark hair. His knee was jiggling madly. “Listen. Rhett. I wanted...” He sat up straight, his voice growing stronger. “I wanted you to know that I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. There are certain rules of etiquette that escorts have to follow, yes, but there are rules that clients must follow as well. And I’ve been a terrible client.”

Rhett waited as Neal fidgeted some more.

“You’re a good escort. A very good one. You deserve more than I’ve been giving you. So I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you. And...” His hands were clenched so tightly in his lap that the tendons in his wrist stood out. “I’d completely understand if you’d prefer to stop working for me.”

Rhett was slightly taken aback. “What? I like this job. Gives me a chance to meet new people, make a lot of money.” He chuckled sadly. “Keeps my mind busy.”

“Oh.” Neal’s hands went slack. “Thank you,” he said, almost too quietly to hear.

“No problem, Neal.”

“And that’s another thing.” His boss smiled up at him, adjusted his glasses with one hand. “You can call me Link.”

~

Sex was different that night. Link was hesitant where Neal had not been. He let Rhett push him against the wall of his bedroom, to tilt his head up for a kiss. His hands on Rhett’s face were tentative, as if he expected Rhett to stop him. For his part, Rhett let his hands slip beneath Link’s shirt to rest at his hips. The sound that Link made as he dug his fingers in, mouth falling open as he fell onto Rhett’s shoulder, pierced him to the quick.

Link didn’t let Rhett touch him this time, though. As they kissed, he pushed Rhett back, back, until the back of his knees hit the bed and he and toppled onto his back.

“Let me take care of you.”

It was almost a question, shyly posed. Link crouched over him, waiting for a response. His glasses had gone askew, his hair falling messily over his forehead. A subtle shade of crimson was slowly creeping across his face. He looked more fiery, more alive than Rhett had ever seen him. The anticipation of what was to come was enough to embolden Rhett to reach up and lift Link’s glasses away.

“Go for it.”

Link crashed against him like a tidal wave. Hands shoved up Rhett’s shirt, nails dragging sharply across his torso. Rhett was dimly aware of Link’s glasses slipping from his hand as his shirt was yanked over his head, but he hardly cared. The thrill of being kissed and touched again and again was more than enough to occupy his attention.

But try as he might, he could not pin Link down. The man explored Rhett’s body almost frantically, as if he hadn’t touched another man in years. His tongue marked territory from his lips downward, pausing to let his teeth graze against one nipple, teasing the flesh until Rhett gasped for him to stop. Their breathing melded into one heavy sound, broken by a gasp from Rhett as Link’s hand brushed against the front of his pants.

He was almost lost in the sensation for a moment, until Link surged back up his body to press a kiss to the crook of his neck.

“I want to taste you,” he said huskily. “ _All_ of you.”

Rhett seized the opportunity to wrap Link in his arms for a moment, to bury his face in thick dark hair. He wanted to slow things down, wanted to fully savor each new feeling. He wanted the chance to explore Link’s body too.

“No need to hurry,” he murmured when Link lifted his head to glare at him. “Relax.”

He moved to plant a kiss on Link’s forehead, but the man shied away, dropping his head to Rhett’s shoulder again. He was trembling now, his body tight as a coiled spring, and for a moment, Rhett was afraid of what might happen if he let go.

So Rhett shifted, straining against pants now uncomfortably tight. Link pressed his own body down in response, the motion eliciting a soft moan from Rhett. They began to rock back and forth, hips moving awkwardly at first before settling into a slow rhythm. Rhett slipped his hands beneath Link’s shirt again, but flinched when he felt the sharp nip of teeth at the crook of his neck.

“Please, Rhett.” The words sounded as if they pained him to say. “Let me take care of you.”

Rhett fought back his apprehension. If Link didn’t want to be on the receiving end, then so be it. He could trust Link to be good to him. He _knew_ this. There was no need to be afraid.

“Yes,” he whispered.

The bed shook as Link shot back down his body, dragging his pants down with no further delay.

Rhett tried to hold himself together as a hand quickly stroked him to full mast. But then the heat of Link’s mouth closed around his erection and he forgot how to do anything except to beg for more. Link’s tongue swirled smoothly around his shaft, his lips so soft, his hands expertly caressing where his mouth couldn’t reach. Rhett writhed and twisted beneath him, his jaw clenched. At one point, Link pulled away, mouth slipping off his cock to be replaced by his hand once again. His face was flushed, eyes glazed over. He met Rhett’s gaze as he slowly stroked him.

“Close?” he rasped.

There was something about the question, something both dominating and nervous, that tore a pained sound from Rhett.

Link stroked him faster.

Rhett pressed back into the pillow as his entire body tightened. He closed his eyes. One hand found its way around the base of his cock while the other rubbed over his own chest in increasingly small circles. He felt himself cresting the rise, that familiar feeling swelling deep within.

“That’s good,” he gasped. “That’s so good, Owen. So freaking _good_.” He thrust hard into the hand stroking him as he came.

Panic burst cold in his head almost immediately, the realization of what he’d just done. It was a blunder he’d never made before, not even with the most passionate of clients. He kept his eyes shut and tried to catch his breath. Maybe Link hadn’t noticed.

Link’s weight suddenly shifted off the bed.

Rhett opened his mouth to — what? To apologize? What was there to say?

The bed sagged as Link returned. He’d brought tissues to wipe the come off his belly. When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet.

“You still want to stay the night?”

So he hadn’t noticed then. And he was asking permission for a second time. Rhett opened his eyes in time to see the obvious signs of Link’s own arousal as he got up from the bed again.

“Don’t worry about me,” Link said quickly when he noticed Rhett’s gaze. “I’ll be fine.” He discarded the tissues and rummaged around his dresser drawers. “So do you still want to stay?” he asked with his back to Rhett. “I have extra pajamas.”

Rhett grinned. “I sleep naked.”

Link made a strangled sound loudly enough to elicit a laugh from Rhett.

“I’ll put my briefs back on for tonight then, okay?”

“Yes, thank you!” Link chuckled then, a high breathy sound. When he laughed, his features softened in a way that, strangely, almost made Rhett’s heart ache.

All smiles faded once the light had been switched off and they were beneath the sheets together. He felt Link shifting closer to him. In the darkness, he could just make out his face. For a moment, it seemed that they might embrace or kiss one last time. But Link suddenly pulled away with a quick apology and busied himself with curling up in the sheets. He settled down with his face to the wall.

For his part, Rhett closed his eyes and wished that he hadn’t said his husband’s name.

~

Wakefulness came to Rhett with the sound of someone snoring nearby, followed by the realization of a heavy weight resting on top of him. Link’s mouth was inches from his ear. Their legs had somehow gotten tangled during the night. Rhett extricated himself from the bed gently, amused when Link barely stirred.

Link looked younger in sleep, Rhett thought. Sweeter, even. No frowning, no mocking, just a smooth brow, messy hair, and a gently snoring mouth.

Rhett made sure to tuck the covers around him again.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, he found himself unsure of what to do. When he spent the night with clients, some of them wanted him to stay for breakfast, others wanted him to get the hell away from them, and still others wanted a quick romp in the sheets before he left. Rhett would have assumed that Link wanted him gone, but the fact that he’d spent the night was a new development. He decided to wait for Link to wake up, just to see how far things would go.

Besides, he wanted to snoop around a little.

He knew better, of course, but his curiosity about his boss was as strong as ever. Might as well learn what he could while he had the chance.

Link’s apartment was immaculate. The furniture was elegant yet simple, muted colors punctuated by the occasional rug or pillow. There were few decorations on the cream-colored walls aside from a few abstract paintings and old family photos. Rhett squinted at these. Several of them showed a smiling boy with a woman that Rhett guessed was Link’s mother.

He moved on to the bookshelf, where the books had been arranged alphabetically by title. Rhett scanned them all, taking note of the wide variety of genres represented. Link seemed to be interested in everything from Agatha Christie to Star Wars.

There was a thick hardcover on the bottom shelf. Rhett would have missed it entirely if it hadn’t been the one messy item in the whole room. The spine was creased in many places, and several bookmarks peered out from between the pages.

Rhett paused for a moment. No sound from the bedroom.

He pulled out the hardcover and opened it.

 

  * _First day in the city. This apt smells like someone died here._


  * _very bad headache. v bad._



 

Rhett flipped through pages and pages full of bulleted entries in Link’s scribbled handwriting. There were large gaps between entries, sometimes days, sometimes weeks. Rhett read snippets here and there.

 

  * _Escort services are a big business here, apparently. Bigger than healthcare and tourism. ← NOTE_


  * _Officially began my own escort service today. Hired Justin Lee thanks to Becca. Six feet tall. He’s v experienced, v confident._


  * _Hired escort number 2: Efrain Sanchez. Five foot ten. Exceptional smile._


  * _Both of my escorts are booked for every night for the next month. Amazing._


  * _Finally making enough to justify paying for Justin and Efrain’s housing._


  * _Hired escort number 3: Andrew Brosh. Five foot nine, but insists that he’s six feet tall. He’s v excited._


  * _Moved today. Top floor, rooftop access. Perfect for visitors._


  * _Hired escort number 4: Nate James. Six feet two. Past escort experience, comes highly recommended from Becca._


  * _Hired escort number 5: Rhett McLaughlin. Former strip club dancer._ _Six foot seven_ _. Has v. long legs._



 

The next page had been torn out. Rhett tried to decipher words from the following blank page, but the indentations were too faint. He flipped back to the beginning of the book and would have begun reading more if he hadn’t heard the unmistakable sounds of Link stirring in the bedroom: drawers opening and slamming, a loud yawn.

Hastily, Rhett replaced the journal on the nightstand, careful to leave it exactly the way he’d found it. He and Link may have had a good time the previous night, but he knew better than to push his luck.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Link told himself that he was  _ not  _ disappointed when he awoke shivering and alone. The sheets were thrown back, but the bed still held the indentation of Rhett’s body. Link allowed himself the luxury of curling into it. He wanted to catch the musky scent of his escort again, if only for a moment.

He was  _ not _ angry when he finally told himself to get up. If he slammed dresser drawers more vehemently than usual and turned the shower tap too cold for comfort, that had nothing to do with the previous night. He’d had a good time with a great escort and he was feeling tired. That was it. Now, they’d return to their normal positions — agent and escort — and life would continue as usual.

But in the shower, he smacked his fist against his bare thigh in frustration. He could still feel Rhett’s hands on him, his embraces and sweet whispers. He hadn’t been a dutiful companion, he’d been a gentle lover. And that had terrified Link most of all.

He didn’t want a lover. He didn’t want a relationship. Such things were messy and painful. It was easier to pay for an escort’s undivided attention than to blindly grasp for another person’s affection. Link hadn’t dated in years because of this.

He wasn’t lonely.

He was  _ not. _

Savagely, he turned off the water and toweled himself dry.

One thing was clear: he could not sleep with Rhett ever again.

With his towel cinched tightly around his waist, he opened the bathroom door... and froze. The pleasant smell that wafted around him was so unexpected and familiar.

Someone was frying bacon.

For a moment he was yanked back to his favorite memories of childhood: Saturday mornings, watching cartoons in pajamas, Mama making a hot breakfast for them both since this was her one day off.

In a rush, Link dropped his towel, scrambling to get dressed. Underwear, t-shirt, jeans all were pulled on with such haste that it was a wonder he didn’t snag a finger. His glasses were on the floor by the bed, an inexplicable location until he remembered Rhett removing them the previous night.

He forced himself to stop before he opened the door. Deep breaths, relaxed shoulders, a quick glance at himself in the mirror.

A pair of wide blue eyes stared back. He looked away before he could dwell on the anxiety he saw there and opened the door.

The smell of bacon made his stomach growl, a reminder that he’d barely eaten the previous day. Rhett was bustling around the kitchen, now turning bacon on the skillet, now stirring ingredients in a mixing bowl that Link had forgotten he owned. He was so focused, the corner of his tongue poking out as he poured pancake batter onto another sizzling pan. His hair was still messy, thick curls twisting in every direction, and —  _ shit _ — Link wished he had another chance to tangle his fingers there.

The bite he’d left at the base of Rhett’s neck had already begun to bruise deep and purple.

“Morning,” Link said, his voice small.

“Oh good, you’re up.” Rhett tilted his head to flash a smile before returning to his work. “You don’t mind me making breakfast, do you? I saw you had bacon and eggs in the fridge, and I was hungry.” He laughed. “Guess I got a little carried away.”

“That’s okay.” Link sat on one of the stools at the counter. Rhett had laid out two plates already.

“You don’t have much in the fridge,” his escort went on. “I guess you, uh, eat out a lot?”

“Yeah. Or I just eat cereal.”

“Saw about twenty boxes in the cabinets there.”

Link shrugged. “You never know when you might run out.”

Rhett fell silent, focusing on breakfast. He refused help, so Link busied himself with his phone. If he tried, he could pretend that this was normal for them, just another morning watching his boyfriend make pancakes—

_ No. Stop it. STOP. _

Breakfast was ready. Two plates piled high with hot pancakes, eggs, bacon, and thick syrup. They sat side-by-side at the counter. Link played some quiet piano music from his phone to fill the silence and instantly regretted it; now it seemed like they were on a date again.

Rhett didn’t seem to care. He was busy shoveling down his food like a man half-starved.

Maybe he’d been too hasty earlier, Link thought. Maybe  _ this _ — occasional trysts — would be okay. Maybe sleeping with his favorite escort would end up being a good thing.

He hardly believed it even as he thought it, but it felt better than to admit the alternative.

One question still lingered at the back of his mind.

“Who’s Owen?”

Rhett froze, his food halfway between plate and mouth. “He was my husband.”

“The one who died?”

“I only married once.” Rhett continued eating.

“You said his name last-”

“I know!” Rhett barked, dropping his fork with a clatter that made Link flinch. “I know,” he said more quietly, and lowered his head in his hands.

“How about you don’t yell at me,” Link said, his voice quiet but firm. Hearing Rhett’s voice raised in anything other than pleasure was somewhat disconcerting.

“I’m sorry.” Rhett dropped his hands with a sigh. “I forgot myself for a moment. Both now and last night.”

Link put out a hand and squeezed Rhett’s shoulder.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said. “Means I’m good enough with a dick to make you forget yourself, doesn’t it?” He nudged Rhett when he got not response. “Doesn’t it?”

Rhett shook his head, but he was grinning now. “What happens if I say no?”

“Psh.” Link rolled his eyes. “I’m your  _ boss _ , McLaughlin. You tell me I’m lousy in bed, I tell you that you’re fired.”

Now they were both smiling.

It was a moment before Link remembered himself. He cleared his throat, abruptly releasing Rhett and turning back to his own food.

They finished breakfast quietly, nothing but piano music playing between them.

~

After Rhett left, Link promised himself that he wouldn’t ever invite him over again. The situation was too messy. He was uncomfortable with what Rhett made him feel, not to mention the fact that he was going against his own rules. His other escorts didn’t seem too bothered by his actions, but Link still wondered if they’d eventually become jealous.

So no more Rhett. Link busied himself with acquiring more business, networking with other agents, assigning his escorts to different clients. When he went to visit his escorts, he refused to be alone with Rhett, barely even acknowledging his presence. He caught Rhett watching him with a puzzled look on his face.

He lasted for a week.

Then he found himself texting Rhett, wanting his company, promising to pay double for giving such short notice. They went out and got drunk, came back to his apartment, and kissed and touched until lips were bruised and bodies spent.

In the morning, Rhett made them breakfast again before leaving Link alone.

But it happened a third time and a fourth time, and somehow their meetings became a weekly routine that Link found himself both craving and dreading.

“Is this okay?” he asked early one morning. They were in his bed, bodies tangled together. Usually, he would have kept the question to himself, but the drowsy haze permeating his mind made the world seem distant enough for him to safely vocalize his thoughts.

The brush of Rhett’s beard on his ear made him shiver.

“Is what okay?” he rumbled sleepily.

“Us. This.” Link’s courage was already faltering. “This arrangement.”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.  _ Sir. _ ” There was a wealth of distance in that last word. “Isn’t that what you told me when I got hired? You’re the client. You make the rules.”

_ Not what I meant. Forget about me being the client.  _ Link closed his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, afraid that Rhett would somehow use his weakness against him. It was so much safer for them to remain in their easily defined roles. A client made requests that an escort fulfilled. It was simple. He knew this.

He just wanted more.

Aloud, he said, “Yeah. You’re right. This is good.”

“Then yes, I think it’s okay.” Rhett stirred and threw back the covers, a shock of cool air disturbing the sleepy warmth of their bodies. He had quickly taken to sleeping nude, which had unsettled Link until he reminded himself that he was in control. If he wanted Rhett to wear pajamas in bed, all he had to do was tell him.

He just never did.

“Where are ya going?” he murmured, opening one eye.

His bedroom window faced west, so there was very little light this early in the morning. He made out the line of Rhett’s profile, as his escort yawned and stretched — from the messy nest of his hair to his pointy nose and thick beard.

“You don’t want breakfast now?” Rhett asked, turning to look down at Link. His face was obscured by shadow now. “But that’s one of the tasks you assigned me...”

“No.” Link reached out and took hold of flesh long since gone soft. “Don’t leave.”

Rhett’s chuckle was music to his ears. “Not hungry?”

“Not yet.” Link slowly rubbed his thumb over the head of Rhett’s cock. “Come here.”

His escort obeyed without another word. He was very docile when Link treated him gently.

The touch of Rhett’s lips against his sparked a sudden rush of frustration. Would it be so difficult to simply  _ ask  _ Rhett what he thought of their relationship — no, their  _ arrangement _ ? The worst Rhett could do would be to say that he hated it.

_ Exactly. _

Link slowly pushed himself into a sitting position on the bed, maneuvering Rhett to straddle his lap. They traded lazy kisses, Link’s hand moving with equal slowness on his escort’s hardening shaft. The hitch in Rhett’s breath was enough to make his own cock twitch, but Link ignored it. He’d already decided that he didn’t deserve to get off this morning.

It was easier to remember their arrangement if he refused to pleasure himself.

Rhett already knew to let him set the pace.

“How close?” Link whispered between kisses. He already could tell by the stiffness of the cock in his hand, but he liked to hear Rhett say it.

“A-almost,” Rhett murmured. His eyes were glassy, one hand heedlessly clutching at Link’s arm.

“Good.” Link’s free hand curled around the back of Rhett’s neck, bringing their mouths more firmly together. He stroked Rhett faster.

It wasn’t long before his escort exhaled sharply through his nose, his cock pulsing as Link felt a sudden wetness in his hand. Rhett’s mouth went slack against his as he convulsed through the aftershocks. He went limp for a moment, his head resting on Link’s shoulder.

They were still except for the rise and fall of their chests. All was quiet and peaceful. Link clung desperately to this moment, stretching it out as long as he dared.

An idea began forming in his mind as Rhett began to stir.

“Hey.” He ran his tongue over his lips. “Something I forgot to tell you. Club Sanguine is holding its grand opening next week. W-would you like to-to go with me?”

“You’re asking again.” There was teasing in Rhett’s voice. “And this time it’s when I’m in a vulnerable state of post-orgasmic bliss.” He lazily shifted his weight off Link and crawled off the bed, still as naked and shameless as ever. “Y’know, studies have shown that people who ask their partners for things after giving them orgasms usually get what they want. I’m sensing an ulterior motive here.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Link said, as firmly as he could manage. “I just asked because I’d like to... get to know you better.”

“Really.” Rhett chuckled at that. “You know why clients like me, Neal. You know everything my body has to offer. But  _ now  _ you’re curious about me?” He made a big show of modesty as he backed towards the bathroom, both hands covering himself. “I’m just a humble escort, sir.”

“I’ll pay you,” Link began. “It’s a pretty high-profile event, so you’d be making a lot.”

“Well in that case... yes.” Rhett laughed. “I got pretty low standards when there’s money involved.” He raised his eyebrows as Link met his gaze. “But then...” The smile vanished from his face. “You probably already knew that.”

~

A few nights later, Link waited outside his escorts’ quarters, sitting in the backseat of a limo he’d rented for the occasion. He was dressed sharply: light gray button-down, dark slacks, and black shoes polished to a mirror shine. He’d added a maroon bowtie atop the whole ensemble for a bit of color but had begun wondering if he should’ve worn a tie instead. 

Rhett emerged from the house a short while later. At the sight of him, Link almost laughed out loud.

He was beautiful. There was no other word for it. He was dressed in simple blues and grays, but the outfit clung to him in all the right places, emphasizing his height and slimness without exaggerating it. His hair was perfectly mussed in a way that made Link want to tug on it.

With some difficulty, he folded his long frame into the car.

“You look nice,” Link said.

As the driver pulled away from the house, Rhett raked him with a sharp gaze.

“So do you.” He nodded at Link’s bowtie. “Just a little crooked there. Do you mind if I...?”

“Go ahead.” Link sat up straight and lifted his head. Rhett leaned in and began adjusting his tie. He was wholly focused on his task, so much that Link couldn’t help glancing at his face again. He wished he hadn’t. The sight made his heart ache.

He knew the pattern of freckles on Rhett’s back. He knew exactly how his escort looked in the throes of passion. Yet he still knew so little about what went on beneath the surface. If it wasn’t for the money, what would Rhett think of him? Would he still be as vocal and attentive if this was just a normal date?

The back of Rhett’s hand brushed against Link’s freshly shaved chin. He had to will himself not to react.

All too soon, Rhett had finished and they were sitting on opposite sides of the car again. Link felt drained already, despite the night having barely begun. He looked out at the lights of the city flashing past.

Maybe this would be the night he’d work up the courage to finally tell the truth.


	9. Chapter 9

As the limo sped across the city, Link made occasional small talk. Thankfully, he seemed content to sit in silence for most of the drive. Rhett was relieved; his own mind was abuzz and he didn’t have the energy to keep up a conversation.

His excitement for Club Sanguine’s grand opening was two-fold. For one thing, the event gave him an opportunity to experience something new. He had spent many nights in clubs, but it had always been as a dancer, strutting out beneath blinding lights to the cheers of a faceless crowd. He’d never been a guest of sorts, as he was tonight.

The second reason for his excitement was complicated. He was looking forward to spending more time with his boss.

During one of the mornings that he’d made breakfast, mulling over his problems as he cracked eggs and stirred in flour, he’d finally grasped at an understanding.

He liked Link. And he was  _ reasonably _ sure that Link liked him. He was almost proud of the bruise he carried on his neck, now hidden beneath his shirt.

But every time he thought they were on the verge of taking things further, every time one of them seemed on the verge of a confession, the other would back away. Rhett figured that Link did so because he knew that escort/agent relationships weren’t endorsed in most circles, but his own reason was quite different.

He held back because of Owen.

Even tonight, as the limo drove them across town, he found his attention was divided. He was mostly happy with the current state of his life, but there was still guilt nagging at the back of his mind. Was it really acceptable for him to be out and about, attending special events and flirting casually with so many people? Just a year ago, he’d been doubled over a hospital bed in tears, clutching a limp hand between both of his as he tried to grasp the reality of life alone.

When Rhett had been struggling to survive after Owen’s death, he had welcomed each new challenge with open arms. Anything to keep himself distracted. But now life was easy and he had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t deserve any of it.

He wasn’t about to tell Link that part, of course, but as the limo deposited them outside the bright lights of Club Sanguine, he made up his mind to stop the games. He was going to get some answers tonight.

~

Club Sanguine was  _ dark, _ Rhett thought. It had been months since he’d been in a nightclub, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the noise and lights.

The night’s festivities were already well underway. Richly clad people milled about the bar and lounged on seats in alcoves around the dance floor, where others danced to thumping music. The whole place was lit with lights along the walls that pulsed with different colors at regular intervals.

Rhett was dimly aware of Link’s hand on his arm, of something being said, but he couldn’t focus. There was too much to take in. Vaguely familiar faces flashed past, former clients and dancers from clubs where he used to work, who gave him friendly waves that he struggled to reciprocate. People jostled him as they rushed to and fro. He tried to grasp at something solid, something he could focus on until his struggling senses could catch up, but doing so was like trying to catch sand in a whirlwind. He caught glimpses of upturned faces, dancing bodies, a DJ with headphones around his neck on the stage.

Someone squeezed his arm.

Link was looking up at him. He wasn’t moving. Link was real and solid and  _ there, _ and for a moment, Rhett could have kissed him.

“Blue, red, or green?” Link said, in the slightly annoyed manner of someone who had already asked the question once. “Which lounge?”

Rhett looked up. There were three loft areas around the dance floor, each with its own monochromatic lighting scheme.

“Blue,” he said. It seemed to be the least crowded of the three.

He felt better when they were seated on one of the low couches in the loft. With a cold drink in hand and food on the way, he could relax and observe the frenzy from a safe distance. Link patted his knee.

“You okay?”

Rhett took a long drink from his glass.

“Now I am,” he said, baring his teeth against the burn of alcohol.

He was about to say something else, but Link’s mouth was suddenly against his.

It was a brief kiss, but it still left Rhett speechless.

“You looked a little worried,” Link said, grinning crookedly at the confusion on Rhett’s face. “You’ll be okay, man. You’re with me.”

He laughed then, a genuine smile crossing his face. It softened his features and made Rhett want to pull him into a tight embrace and never let go. He settled for lacing their fingers together as he tried to quell the sudden fluttering in his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

As they shared another kiss, the raucous sounds of the party around them faded to a dull roar. Rhett closed his eyes, one hand sliding up Link’s arm.

A week ago, Link had asked him if  _ this _ was okay. Right now,  _ this  _ was all Rhett wanted — Link pressed against him, humming approval as Rhett deepened the kiss. He would have done more if Link hadn’t broken away, mumbling red-faced about “saving that for later.”

~

The party grew wilder. Rhett drank more and talked with the other occupants of the lounge and let his eyes linger on Link’s body when he was busy talking to other people.

At one point, the dance floor was cleared and a troupe of male and female dancers clad in shimmery black spandex took over, swaying and gyrating to a sultry melody. Rhett peered at them from his seat in the lounge, keenly aware of Link’s leg against his.

“What do you think of them?” Link asked. “Since you’re the professional and all.”

“Mmm. Too self-conscious,” Rhett said with a dismissive wave. “You gotta really  _ fling _ yourself into what you’re doing when you dance. Especially if it’s supposed to be sexy.”

“Yeah?” Link laughed. “Dance like nobody’s watching, you mean?”

“I know it’s cliche, but it’s true.”

One of Link’s eyebrows shot up, a challenge echoed by his words. “Prove it.”

“Easy.” Rhett stood, staggering a little as his head swam. He’d drunk more than he’d realized, his hand wavering as he offered it to Link. “Come with me.”

He led Link down the steps of the lounge, shouldering his way through the crowd and outside into the cool night air.

It was a relief from the heat of the club, helped to clear some of the fuzziness from Rhett’s head. In the distance, the lights of the downtown skyscrapers were visible. Rhett pulled Link along behind him, passing between newly planted flowers, hedges, and lights placed at regular intervals. Club Sanguine was unique from similar venues in that it had substantial outdoor grounds. Tonight, there were many people about, staggering drunkenly or pausing for a quick smoke. Rhett kept walking until the crowds thinned out.

“Where are we going?” Link asked. A note of teasing crept into his voice. “You tryna kidnap me, McLaughlin?”

“Here.” Rhett paused before a bench. “Sit.” He pressed down on Link’s shoulders until he sank into the seat.

Link’s face seemed even softer in the half-light. Rhett hesitated, before smoothing a hand over his dark hair.

“Now,” he said quietly, “you get your own little show.”

He backed away several steps before turning his back to Link. For a moment he stood with hands clasped before him and eyes closed, recalling the dances he’d learned from his days onstage. There were only a few that he remembered now.

When he spun around, arms akimbo and one hip jutting out, Link covered his mouth to hold back a chuckle.

“Lovely,” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm.

Rhett ignored him. He could hear the music in his head now, the applause and cheers from the crowd. He started with gentle movements as he sashayed around Link’s seat, reaching out to brush a hand along his arm. Link reached for him, but Rhett drew back with a slight headshake.

He wrenched off his blazer with sudden violence, carelessly throwing it aside. Tilting his head back, he fixed his eyes on the moon again. Moving at the speed of slowly dripping honey, he dragged his hands through his hair, down his chest, over his stomach and thighs. He opened his mouth in a soft sigh, something that one would usually hear muffled amidst the rustle of bed sheets.

When he lowered his head, Link wasn’t smiling anymore. His chest rose and fell heavily, hands white-knuckled on his knees. Rhett met his gaze, held it for a long moment, then lowered one hand to his cock. He clutched himself loosely through his pants, thrust forward sharply a few times. Link’s eyes never left his body.

Rhett returned to him, drinking in the sight of his now-upturned face, his exposed teeth. He straddled Link’s lap with a flourish and deliberately thrust forward, feeling the familiar strain in his legs as he varied his moves: now higher, now lower, always slow and just out of reach.

The look of want on Link’s face was almost identical to his expression during their first encounter, when he’d writhed so desperately in Rhett’s lap. Now, Rhett met his gaze, his own eyes heavy with lust.

“Please let me touch you.” Link’s voice was the faintest whisper.

Rhett finally let himself settle gently onto Link’s lap, hands cradling the base of his agent’s head as he leaned in for a long kiss.

Aside from the muffled sounds of music from the club, aside from the soft noises they made in each other’s mouths, all was quiet.

Rhett felt the beginnings of arousal stirring, and for a wild moment, he considered stoking them further. It would be so easy to grind himself against Link’s length beneath him, moving with frantic need until they both came with stifled cries.

“What’s wrong?” Link whispered.

His voice seemed too loud in the silence. Rhett placed a finger on his mouth, slowly traced his upper lip. Link closed his eyes, holding himself still as if he was listening for something. He was ready. Waiting.

“Something I need to tell you.” Rhett’s heart was beating so hard it almost hurt. This was ridiculous, but he wanted it. He wanted so badly to stop playing games. He needed to know if there was a possibility of something more than sex between them, just so he could stop worrying about it.

“We need to talk about-”

“Link?”

Reality tore the peaceful feeling from Rhett’s grasp. He scrambled to his feet, his thoughts scattering as he stumbled in his haste to retrieve his blazer from where it had fallen.

The young woman had come upon them unnoticed. She was frowning at them both. Her glasses and dark hair were almost similar to Link’s, but her glasses were thick black frames instead of a brown-black ombre.

“Hey Becca.” Link’s voice cracked, which he tried to cover by clearing his throat. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“How are you, Link?” she asked coolly.

“Good.” Link ran a hand through his hair, glancing towards Rhett as he did so. “Uh, this is-”

“I know who he is.” There was something accusatory about her tone that Rhett didn’t like. “Can I talk to you for a minute? We won’t be long,” she added, flashing a strained smile at Rhett.

Link mouthed a quick “sorry” to Rhett before Becca pulled him out of sight behind a tall hedge.

Voices were soon raised nearby, words on the edge of hearing. Rhett went to investigate, pausing just out of sight of where Link and Becca had gone.

“ _ Dammit _ , Link!” Becca was saying, her voice full of real distress. “Why?”

“I’m tired, Becca,” Link said. His voice had gone soft. “I’m so tired and I don’t want to keep living like this anymore. I need someone.”

“So you pick an escort?” Becca demanded. “And not only that, but one who  _ works for you _ ? Shoot, does he  _ know _ that you  _ need _ him? Or does he just come to you because you pay him? Listen, what are you going to do if people start finding out? If your other escorts find out?”

“He’s just working for me,” Link said quietly.

“You know I don’t believe that for a minute, right?”

Link was silent.

Becca sighed. “Listen. You can do whatever you want. I just... I care about you, okay? You’re a good friend of mine and I don’t want you getting hurt.” After a moment, she added, “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly.

They lowered their voices then, speaking too quietly for Rhett to hear. He retreated to the bench, where he sat with folded hands.

The crescent moon seemed very far away, hanging high above the horizon. He recalled another time he’d seen the moon, when Owen had first been admitted to the hospital.

_ Stop. _ Rhett closed his eyes and pressed both hands to his temples. He didn’t want to be thinking about Owen right now.

“Sorry about that.”

Link had returned. He sat on the bench beside Rhett, leaving a wide space between them this time. He didn’t speak.

“Who was that?” Rhett asked.

“Becca Canote,” Link said shortly. “City planner and a friend of mine.”

Rhett stretched one arm along the back of the bench, poking Link’s shoulder with a finger. When Link didn’t react, he said, “You were yelling pretty loud for you guys to be  _ friends _ .”

Link was suddenly on his feet, straightening his bowtie, fixing his hair. “Maybe we should head home s-”

“Are you angry with me?” The question came out more loudly than Rhett intended. “Have I done something wrong? I mean, you asked me to come to this event, you’ve been all over me all night, but now you’re acting like looking at me is a crime.”

Link’s face convulsed in something that seemed like pain. He removed his glasses and began cleaning them on his shirt.

“Look,” Rhett continued quietly. “I heard you two talking. I know you have feelings for me.”

Link replaced his glasses with shaking hands. He would not look at Rhett, keeping his eyes on the ground as he spoke with increasingly broad gestures. “That doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure you’ve had many clients tell you that.” His voice took on a mocking tone. “They have feelings for you, they love you, and if you just let them, they can take away  _ all _ your pain.”

“I’ve had a few,” Rhett admitted. They were close to the truth now, closer than they’d ever been. He could feel it. “There’s nothing wrong with you liking me, y’know.”

Link grimaced, shaking his head vigorously. “You and I both know that agents shouldn’t date their escorts.”

“And yet here we are.” Rhett grinned. He got to his feet and enveloped Link’s tense body in his arms. “Listen,” he murmured. “You’re right, there’ve been many clients who’ve shown interest in me or tried to get me to run away with them. But when I’m with you, it’s the only time those feelings get reciprocated. I like you too.”

Rhett felt an easing of the tension in his own mind, as Link’s body sagged against his.

“Do you  _ really _ ?” Link whispered.

Rhett only held him tighter. Link’s arms slowly found their way around him, the strength of his hug emboldening Rhett further.

“You’re still a puzzle to me,” he admitted as he lowered his face to Link’s dark hair. “But I’ll be damned if it isn’t fun trying to figure you out.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

In all of his years of city living, Link had only been down to the river once or twice. Rhett was aghast when he learned this, insisting that they make a special trip as soon as he had a free day.

This type of outing had become typical of them, squeezing in small moments together now that they were  _ dating. _ Link could still hardly believe it. He hadn’t been this infatuated with anyone in a long time, and part of him feared that it might end unexpectedly. And since Rhett was a popular escort, his free time was rare.

It was Thursday afternoon when they finally took the trip to the river passing through the middle of the city. They both dressed casually for once: Link choosing to wear a slim Star Wars tee and a pair of equally close-fitting jeans, Rhett waiting for him at the river in a black tee, red sweats, and flip-flops.

He seized Link around the waist with one large hand.

“You look good,” Rhett murmured.

Link felt his head reel as they kissed, the clean smell of Rhett’s body wash filling his senses and easing tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying. He allowed himself a moment to bury his face in Rhett’s shirt before pulling away.

“How was work last night?” he asked as they walked.

“Easy.” Rhett grinned. “Some of your clients can be pretty funny.”

“What do you mean?”

“This guy wanted to undress me and count every freckle on my back. Then he jerked me off and got me dressed again. Like I was a toy or something.”

Link sighed. “Was that Beckett? He just likes being in control, you know? He told me he likes escorts from certified agencies like mine because then he doesn’t have to worry about disease or complicated emotions.”

“Hmm.” Rhett buried his hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble along the sidewalk with one foot. “Kinda like you?”

“Shut up.” Link felt his ears redden. Rhett only chuckled.

“Well it was a simple job, so I can’t complain.” His steps slowed to a stop. “Look at that.”

Link joined him at the railing and together they looked out across the water at a trio of motorboats racing past, leaving the water turbulent in their wake. He wrapped an arm around Rhett’s waist and held him tight. It was a gesture still unfamiliar to him, even though they’d been dating for a month now. They attended events both separately and together, always under the guise of an escort accompanying his agent. It was only at quiet times like these that they allowed themselves to relax.

“I don’t like hiding like this,” Link said quietly.

“Who’s hiding?” Rhett glanced around. “We’re in broad daylight, man. If anyone asks, you just needed some comfort and bought up the rest of my afternoon, alright?”

Link sighed. “What about Becca’s wedding, though?”

It was coming up in a couple of weeks. Link was attending as a guest and Rhett was coming along as the plus one of Harvey, the councilman who had been his very first client.

“We’ve been okay at the other gatherings we’ve been to together. What would make this any different?”

“Efrain will be there,” Link said, naming one of his other escorts. “He’s been asking a lot of questions about you lately. I was thinking of changing his schedule so we wouldn’t have to see him.”

“Don’t do that! You’d just seem even more guilty.”

“Then what should we do?”

“Just leave things the way they are,” Rhett said firmly. “We’ll be fine.”

~

“I want to show you something,” Link said. They were in his apartment this evening, cleaning up after a dinner of grilled tuna that Link surprised himself by enjoying.

“What’s that?” Rhett was rinsing off the last of the dishes.

“The roof! I’ve never shown you, have I?”

“Nope! And there’s a good reason for that. I don’t like heights.”

Link laughed. “Come with me anyway! I want to show you what I got up there.”

It took some coaxing for Link to convince Rhett to follow him up the steps to his rooftop deck. There was a slant-roofed canopy on one side, where he’d arranged some furniture that was only used for the occasional party.

He went to the railing now, gesturing for Rhett to follow him.

“It’s not so high up,” he said. “Come on!”

Rhett approached him, brow furrowed. “I  _ really  _ don’t like heights, man.”

“Don’t look down!” Link admonished. He stepped closer to Rhett, one hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. “Look  _ out. _ ”

The view was one of Link’s favorite things about his top-floor apartment. The buildings around them were bathed a crimson-orange by the setting sun, which was just visible between two high-rises. He felt his heart warm at the sight, and suddenly he was very happy that he had the chance to view this with Rhett by his side.

He glanced up at the man who, just a few weeks ago, had been emotionally off-limits. Now, he felt words crowding his tongue, gratitude for Rhett making dinner, flirty phrases that he’d been thinking about all day.

Rhett looked down at him first and said the words that had been on his mind all night.

“You look beautiful, Link.”

“So do you,” Link said softly, and it was true. Rhett’s face shone in the dying light, his hair and beard looking as if they’d been set aglow. It was like looking into the face of the sun, and as they finally kissed, he felt the heat spark between them and he knew that he would not be sleeping alone tonight.

They moved beneath the canopy, to the outdoor couch resting there. Rhett sat first and pulled Link onto his lap.

“Anything you don’t want me to do?” he whispered, his breath against Link’s ear as hot as burning coals.

Link could only shake his head frantically. “Just be gentle,” he whispered.

As Rhett’s touches became more insistent, Link found it easier to relax. This was what he needed. Rhett’s body was the surest anchor; it was okay if he fell apart a little bit. Rhett wouldn’t let him go.

So Link stopped holding back. He wanted more, so much more. His need was suddenly overwhelming, an all-consuming fire as brilliant as the sunset. Rhett’s hands were everywhere, in his hair, on his belly, in his jeans, where they slowly stroked his half-hard length.

_ More, _ Link pleaded, and Rhett gave it to him. They slowly shed their clothes and Link climbed onto Rhett’s lap. He wasn’t usually into sex like this, practically out in the open where anyone could see, but the thought of being watched hardly mattered right now.

After slipping on one of the condoms he retrieved from where his pants had fallen, Rhett entered him from behind. Link let out a groan not entirely from discomfort. It was amazing to sink back onto the cock, to feel Rhett’s arms encircling him protectively from shoulder to hip. Only when Link whispered a breathless, “Go ahead,” did Rhett began to move.

He took his time at first, moving just enough to make Link squirm back against him for more. As the sunset deepened around them, Link found himself saying things he’d never said to anyone else, praising Rhett for his beauty and for how he felt, begging Rhett to fuck him harder. He lost track of all sense of time as they moved together. All that mattered was that Rhett was inside him,  _ yes, _ Rhett was inside him and the certainty of that was extraordinary.

Link listened to the sweet words whispered in his ear, to gentle praise he’d seldom heard before. He was doing great. He felt so good. He was lovely.

He was a good boy.

Link groaned at that, his head lolling back against Rhett’s shoulder. He felt completely helpless as Rhett’s thrusts deepened, but there was something arousing about the feeling. Nothing was in his control right now. And, strangely, that didn’t bother him. Rhett’s arms were tight around him, his beard brushing against Link’s ear as he nipped at the sensitive flesh there. He would keep Link safe.

With a final cry, Link came untouched, his body open to the dwindling sunlight, and the beauty of it all was that he didn’t even care.

~

They stayed on the roof until the air left Link shivering, even after Rhett smothered him in a bear hug. Back inside they retreated, to Link’s bed, where they cuddled skin-to-skin, Link curled up in Rhett’s arms.

“Tell me a story,” Rhett yawned. “I’m not sleepy yet.”

“Hmm.” Link slowly traced a line down Rhett’s chest, over and over, watching the skin dimple beneath his fingers. “Once upon a time, there was a college kid minding his own business in the showers. He was changing afterwards and was in the midst of the moment of nakedness.”

“The what?”

“The moment of nakedness! The moment between dropping the towel and pulling on the briefs.”

“Why didn’t you just walk around naked? You weren’t just going through puberty then, were you?”

“Who said this was about me?” Link demanded.

Rhett laughed then, a full-bellied, deep-throated laugh that shook his entire body beneath Link. It was a sound Link had never heard before, and it made his heart flutter a little.

“I don’t know who the hell else would be talking about moments of nakedness, except for my weird boss.” He squeezed Link’s shoulder. “Anyway. Continue.”

“I was standing by my locker after taking a shower, and after I dropped my towel, I accidentally planted my buttcheeks on some old guy’s bare back.”

Again, Rhett laughed. He was wiping tears from his eyes by the time Link began nudging him to knock it off.

“Nice story,” he said when he could breathe again. “But wait, how did you not notice him when you got to the lockers?”

“I don’t know, man!” Link poked his belly. “Forget about it.”

“Whoo boy.” Rhett let out a high-pitched sigh. “No, but really, Link. Tell me a good story. A story about you. Something super personal.”

“What?”

“We’re dating, aren’t we? I wanna learn something about you.”

Link thought for a moment. His heart was thumping madly. He closed his eyes. “Say you grow up in a small town, in a rundown trailer by the side of the road,” he murmured, drawing strength from Rhett’s body around him. “Say your mom splits from your dad when you’re a toddler. She never remarries, but has some boyfriends. As you get older, you start getting sick of them all. You also start realizing things about yourself, that maybe you like boys as much as you like girls. In that situation, what would you do the minute you graduated high school?”

“Leave,” Rhett said without hesitation.

“Nope! Wrong.” Link sighed at the memory. “Instead, you do what you’re told. You go to college, get an engineering degree, and start working a miserable job near your hometown.

“Then one day, after you get yelled at by your asshole of a boss for the hundredth time, you finally say, ‘Fuck this,’ and move to the city.

“I was twenty-eight then,” Link murmured. He realized he’d switched perspectives, but it felt better to speak openly. “A skittish little thing with too much hair. Look.” He shot up from Rhett’s arms and grabbed his phone, scrolling through photos until he landed on an old one of himself with hair down to his shoulders and a tiny, crooked pair of glasses.

Rhett saw the picture and whistled approvingly.

“Link Neal, I do believe you were what we in the business like to call a twink.”

Link grinned. “Oh, I know.” He tossed the phone aside and settled back into Rhett’s embrace. “Believe me, I know.

“So anyway, life was pretty hard at first. Had to find a place to live, had to find steady work. Got into the escort business thanks to Becca’s advice. Then one night, I found a hulking sexy piece of a man.” He dug his fingers into Rhett’s ribs, enough to make him hiss in pain. “And slowly, I realized that I liked him more than an agent should.” He nuzzled at Rhett’s neck and received gentle caresses through his hair in return. He felt better now that he’d spoken, released from a weight he didn’t know he was carrying.

“You tell me a story, Rhett.”

It was a long moment before Rhett spoke.

“Say you grow up feeling like there’s glass between you and the rest of the world. You got friends, wonderful parents, an older brother, and you’re really good at basketball. Like, really good.  _ Really good. _ ”

Link poked him again. “Stop it.”

Rhett huffed out a quiet laugh but went on. “But anyway, you never really  _ connect _ with anyone. Nobody gets your weird ideas or wants to talk about big plans for the future, they just laugh and move on. Your dad wants you to be a college basketball star, and you get a full scholarship thanks to his training.” Rhett’s voice drops. “But you get sick of it. You get so sick of pounding on the glass and wishing someone would notice. So you drop out of college. Probably break your dad’s heart in the process, but ultimately it’s for the best.

“For a while, you move around a lot. Settling down makes you feel miserable. But in one town, you meet a man who actually stops to listen. He plays guitar with you and makes you laugh...” Rhett broke off. “You start spending a lot of time together and one day you propose.”

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, he sounded weary. “You get exactly four hundred seventy-one days of married life before it all goes to shit. He goes to the ER for stomach pains and comes out with a cancer diagnosis.

“After that, you only have eighty-six days left together. He deteriorates so fucking  _ fast. _ ” Rhett’s hand tightens on Link’s shoulder. “You beg and borrow every dollar you can to make sure he gets the best treatments available, but it doesn’t do any good. Finally, the doctors tell you that all they can do is make your husband as comfortable as possible.”

Rhett fell silent. Link reached up to cup his cheek in one hand. Rhett’s face was dry, but Link could sense the emotion he was struggling to hold at bay.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Rhett said quietly. He cleared his throat again. “Oh man! Um, anyway, when he finally dies, you don’t sleep or eat for days. Your family tries to help, but you don’t want them to. They can’t afford your bills. You start working multiple jobs, but nothing you do is enough. So you do what you did when you were single — move somewhere else. You go to the city and apply for every job you can find.  _ Every _ job. You quickly learn that there’s a  _ lot _ of money in stripping and dancing if you have the right crowd, and it’s nice to have people cheering for you, so you stick with that.

“Then one night when your back hurts and you're frustrated and can’t see a way out, you open your door to find this guy with glasses who’s talking about giving you a bunch of money and whatever food you want, and all you can think is  _ yes. _ ”

“Wow,” Link said quietly.

“I feel like I’ve been behind the glass again since Owen died,” Rhett murmured after a moment. “Part of me died with him and the rest of me has been waiting to join, I suppose.”

Link made a disapproving noise. “Don’t say that.”

“Well it’s true!”

“No.” Link ran his fingers through Rhett’s beard, combing the hair with slow, steady strokes. “I... we’ll find a way to break through the glass, okay? You and me both.”

They talked more after that, words blending in a soupy haze of drowsiness. Link didn’t remember dozing off, but at one point during the night, he awoke with a start, shivering in the absence of Rhett’s body heat.

“Rhett?”

His escort lay with his face to the wall. Link was about to roll over and go back to sleep when a soft sound came to him, a rush of breath, a sudden cascade of sobs. Link felt his own heart clench in agony at the sound. He pressed a hand to Rhett’s back, feeling him quake like a leaf.

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhett whispered shakily. His voice broke. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Link curled one arm across his sloping shoulders. He nestled in close behind Rhett, pressing his lips to the warm space between his shoulder blades. While Rhett wept, he stayed there, giving the only comfort he could provide.

“I miss him,” Rhett said.

Link lay his palm flat against Rhett’s chest, right over the heartbeat thudding there. He didn’t know what to say. The knowledge that Rhett was hurting was almost too much to handle.

“I miss him so much.”

“I know,” Link murmured.

Rhett exhaled, a shaky sound that pained Link to his core. One of his hands closed over Link’s. His palms were sweating profusely, but Link resisted the urge to pull away.

“Thank you,” Rhett whispered.

Link squeezed his hand.

Just a short while ago, he’d been adrift in the heights of passion, feeling happier than ever, but now the familiar weight of anxiety and worry was crowding back in. Rhett was grieving over an enormous loss that Link could barely fathom and he felt woefully inadequate at the prospect of helping him through it.

But he could try.

It wasn’t the cut-and-dried answer he wanted.  _ Try _ implied a chance of failure, but right now it was all he had. Sighing, he buried his face in the nape of Rhett’s neck.

Rhett drifted off soon after, his breathing gradually deepening in sleep, but Link was not so lucky. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks (as always) to [missingparentheses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/missingparentheses) for helping me fix the ending when I had no clue of what to do!! <33


	11. Chapter 11

When Rhett first moved into the escorts’ quarters, Efrain had been the first to warm up to him. He was the second youngest escort after Andrew, in his mid-twenties, with dark hair, a broad face and a bright smile. He’d grown up in the city and seemed perfectly content to remain as an escort there for as long as possible, something that Rhett found fascinating in how it differed from his own experiences.

As Rhett and Link embarked on their relationship, however, Rhett’s friendship with Efrain had faltered. Between his time spent working and his time spent with Link, Rhett was not home often. Still, he and Efrain managed to swap stories about weird clients every now and then.

One evening, Rhett found his way back home alone. He’d been with a client who’d liked to drink, so Rhett had pushed himself to keep up, knocking back shots until he could barely speak. He regretted it now, edging his way carefully up the stairs with both hands on the railing. He didn’t want to trip over his own feet in his currently tipsy state.

When he reached his rooms on the second floor, it took him several tries before he grasped the correct doorknob between the three wavering before him.

“Need some help?”

Rhett turned his head very slowly. Efrain was striding down the hallway from his own rooms, his curly hair a mess, wearing nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants. Rhett began a weak protest that was quickly cut off as Efrain opened the door and herded him inside. The escort was talking so fast that Rhett’s inebriated brain had difficulty keeping up.

“You were with Winston, right? That idiot’s gonna kill himself if he doesn’t stop the drinking.”

“Yes,” he managed.

“He pays good money though, doesn’t he?”

Rhett tried to nod and immediately regretted it. The motion almost made him fall over.

“Steady now.” Efrain’s arms were around him in an instant. “Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

“I can do it m’self,” Rhett mumbled.

“Quit lyin’.” Efrain laughed. “What would Neal say if I told him that his top escort got a concussion because I thought leaving his drunk ass alone was a good idea?”

Rhett fell silent at the thought of Link. Several days had passed since their last date, thanks to the onslaught of clients that the summer weather brought. They continued to call and text each other, but between their work schedules, there was barely time to meet. Rhett hated it. Without the promise of time with Link, he found it difficult to care about work. He caught himself slipping again, his attention wandering to memories or plans for the future. Without Link’s presence to pin him down, Rhett had little reason to stay in the present.

He had planned out the next year already. He would pay off his debt, quit being an escort, and start dating Link openly. They might even leave the city too, moving to a quiet house in the countryside where they’d take long walks together through the fields.

“If I got a concussion, Neal would be fine,” Rhett muttered as Efrain guided him to the bedroom. “He has other escorts.”

“Yeah, but none of ‘em are like you!” Efrain made him sit on the end of the bed and began untying his shoes. “Where do you keep your pajamas?”

Rhett waved a hand. “I don’t wear ‘em.”

“Fine, fine.” Efrain bustled about, helping Rhett undress. “Listen, if something happened to me, Neal would be sad, but if something happened to  _ you _ ? Neal would be  _ devastated. _ ”

Rhett felt his face grow warm from something more than the alcohol. 

“Lemme tell you something,” Efrain continued as he tossed Rhett’s clothes in the laundry. “When I first started working here, I thought Neal was hot as hell.”

“What?” The word came out before Rhett could stop it, sharp with reactive anger. Thankfully, Efrain didn’t seem to notice.

“I dunno,” he chuckled, “I just had a stupid thought of gettin’ a little extra from him on the side. He’s a good-looking guy, you know? Don’t worry though, I never tried anything. I know it’s against the rules.”

With a small measure of guilt, Rhett thought of strong hands tugging at his hair, of a breathless voice crying out his name in the dark.

“Yeah, definitely against the rules,” he mumbled weakly.

Efrain helped him into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

“Need anything else?”

“No,” Rhett yawned. “Thank you, though.”

“My pleasure.” Efrain grinned, adding with mock sternness, “Now sleep it off. Don’t try to do too much when you wake up, either. If you puke, you’re on your own.”

Rhett mumbled his agreement as he closed his eyes. He heard Efrain’s retreating footsteps, the click of the bedroom door closing, and finally, blessed silence.

~

Becca’s wedding day dawned overcast with the promise of rain, but the outdoor ceremony went on as planned. It was held on the suburban grounds of a city official’s mansion, on a lawn so green that it hurt Rhett’s eyes. He turned his attention back to proceedings held beneath the white arch before the rows of seats arranged on the lawn. He thought they were a perfectly matched pair: Becca in her suit and her new wife in a flowing pale dress.

From his seat a few rows up, Link turned and managed to catch his eye. He wore a pastel blue shirt similar to Rhett’s, but had topped it with a bowtie instead of a necktie. Rhett winked at him, barely suppressing a grin when Link whipped back around to face the front.

Efrain was there too, accompanying a scowling, gray-haired woman who looked irritated with the proceedings. He and Rhett shared sympathetic glances.

Rhett’s smile quickly faded as the ceremony went on. He found himself comparing this wedding to his own. He and Owen had been married at a mountaintop resort with only their closest family and friends attending. Rhett remembered the heady feeling that overcame him as he and Owen exchanged the rings, his vision blurred by an onslaught of happy tears.

His own ring was long gone, sold in a desperate bid for cash. The other ring, Owen’s, rarely left its place around his neck.

Now, he found himself blinking back tears again.

Harvey, his portly and mild-mannered client for the day, offered him a tissue. He murmured something about the beauty of the ceremony being enough to make anyone emotional. Rhett forced an apologetic chuckle and dried his eyes.

He hadn’t cried since that night when Link had comforted him, supporting him through a deluge of sadness that had caught him off-guard. He felt better now that he’d told Link the whole story. It had felt cleansing to offload the immense weight that he’d been carrying alone for months. Still, there were moments like today, when the sight of a happy couple was enough to drag him back into the darkest depths.

His eyes were fixed on the back of Link’s dark head again, wishing he would turn around, steal another glance, a sly smile—

Harvey tugged on his sleeve and asked if he was feeling alright, adding that he had been feeling tired himself, before launching into a muttered recounting of the work he’d done that week. Rhett smiled and nodded and commented at appropriate intervals, but inwardly wished he could slap duct tape over the man’s mouth.

The reception was held immediately afterwards. Rhett and Harvey were seated a few tables over from Link. Harvey was talking again, something about wanting to know if Rhett wouldn’t mind spending the night with him. Rhett nodded absentmindedly, his eyes still on Link.

He finally took out his phone, typed a quick,  _ meet me inside pls,  _ and sat back to wait.

Soon enough, he saw Link’s head dip to check his phone before he slowly got to his feet. Without glancing towards Rhett once, he crossed the reception area to the house and disappeared inside.

Rhett waited for five agonizing minutes before excusing himself to follow.

Link was waiting for him just inside the door, arms crossed.

“What’s wrong, Rhett?”

The words caught in Rhett’s throat. He engulfed Link in a hug, burying his nose in his dark hair even as he felt Link stiffen.

“Not here,” Link whispered frantically. “Rhett, not here!”

A firm hand closed around his wrist, tugging him away from the entryway, through what looked like an office, and into a small, white-tiled bathroom. Link kicked the door shut before speaking again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling Rhett into a gentle embrace.

There was something about the soft circles that Link traced on his back and the familiar scent of him that filled Rhett with comfort and gave him strength to speak again.

“Just wishing I was here with you instead of Harvey.” He let his hands come to rest at Link’s waist. “ _ God _ , I wish we didn’t need to hide at events like this.”

“One day.”

Rhett bunched his fists in the fabric of Link’s button-up and pulled upward, heedless of the wrinkles he knew would be left there. “I need you now.”

“But Rhett, you’re working.” Link let out an exasperated sigh. “This isn’t the time—”

“Please.” One of Rhett’s hands slipped beneath Link’s shirt. He let it rest there, right above Link’s navel, as the other curled through the dark hair at the base of his neck. Their mouths were merely inches apart now. Rhett ran his tongue over his lips. “I’ve barely seen you all week.”

There was an edge of desperation to their kiss. The forbidden nature of their meeting only made Rhett want more. He needed to lose himself in Link, even if it was only for a short while. He wouldn’t mind returning to the reception and faking interest in Harvey’s business for the rest of the afternoon if he could only find some comfort now.

Link seemed to reach a decision when they broke apart, a new firmness to his grip on Rhett’s shoulders, his eyes now sharp and calculating.

“Well, what do you want to do, bo?”

“I...” Rhett licked his lips. He was suddenly unsure. “I don’t know.”

A corner of Link’s mouth slid upwards. He flexed the muscles of his stomach beneath Rhett’s hand. “How about you get me hard first.”

At his words, Rhett sank to his knees and attacked Link’s belt, tugging pants and underwear swiftly away. He took Link quickly into his mouth, working with his hand what he could not reach with his tongue. The sound that tore itself from Link echoed on the bathroom tiles and sent his head reeling.

Link hardened quickly beneath his touch, his hands combing through Rhett’s hair in increasingly rough strokes.

“Up,” he whispered harshly, and Rhett obeyed without a second thought.

His pants still open, Link backed against the bathroom sink, pulling Rhett with him.

“You’ll come with me, yeah?” he whispered. Rhett nodded jerkily.

Soon enough he was exposed as well. One of Link’s hands encircled them both. He pulled Rhett in for another kiss as he began to stroke. Rhett let his eyes slip closed and reveled in the heat between them. Link’s sure hand on him, his soft sighs, his slow, deep kisses — it was all exactly what he needed.

Behind them came the unmistakable sound of the bathroom door opening.

“Oh  _ shit, _ I’m sorry.” At the sound of the familiar voice, terror shot through Rhett’s senses. “Wait... Rhett?”

He didn’t dare to turn around. In his arms, Link had gone still.

“Is that... is that  _ Neal _ ?”

Link laid a hand on Rhett’s arm as he spoke, gripping as tightly as he usually did in the throes of passion. His other hand still held both of them together, the sight of their hardness almost comical now.

“Efrain, please go,” he said quietly, his voice trembling.

“Neal—”

Link’s voice turned dangerous. “ _ Efrain. _ ”

With a monumental effort, Rhett turned his head in time to see his fellow escort’s face twist in disgust.

“What the hell, Rhett?” Efrain demanded. “How long have you been messing around with him?”

Rhett didn’t know what to say. He could almost hear his plans for the future crashing down around his ears and all he could think was  _ no no no no... _

Efrain stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Shit.” Link’s voice drew Rhett’s attention again. His face had gone pale. Rhett tried to pull him into an embrace, wanting the reassurance of contact as much as he wanted to give it, but Link pushed him away.

“Link...”

No response. Link turned away and hastily zipped and buttoned his clothes back up. Rhett found himself hurrying to do the same. He was still at a loss for words. Before Rhett could summon the courage to speak again, Link strode from the bathroom, not deigning to give his escort a backward glance.


	12. Chapter 12

“Link!”

He ignored the voice and kept walking. It was foolish of him to think that he could go to the escorts’ quarters without being disturbed, but he’d needed to grab some paperwork from the downstairs office. He’d hoped that Rhett wouldn’t notice his arrival, but it was too late now.

“Can’t talk now,” he said over his shoulder as he crossed the entryway of the escort house and reached for the doorknob. “Lot of work to take care of.”

“Wait!” Rhett’s footsteps padded down the stairs. He was beside Link in a moment, their close proximity almost unnerving after the circumstances of their previous meeting. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a tangled mess. He put a hand on Link’s arm.

“Just five minutes, Link. Please?”

“No.” Link shook him off. “I don’t have time.”

“Link, I know you’re mad. I’m sorry. I know I messed up—”

“You did a whole lot more than ‘mess up’,” Link snapped, turning on Rhett with his teeth bared. He was shaking from nervous energy, from three days spent scrambling around the city nonstop as everything crumbled around him. Most of Link’s clients had cancelled their appointments with his escorts, and he was rushing to keep the rest from following suit.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Rhett.

“My business is in shambles because you couldn’t wait to get your rocks off,” he said darkly.

“ _ You _ were the one who forgot to lock the door,” Rhett protested. He was searching Link’s face, pleading for an acquiescence that Link refused to give. “Please, Link, don’t run off like this.”

“I can’t talk now.” Link turned the doorknob.

One of Rhett’s hands came up to grab the door as it opened. “When can we—”

A burst of anger propelled Link forward, his hand hitting Rhett in the chest harder than he’d intended. “Let me go!”

Rhett shrank back from the door, as quickly as if he’d been burned. Link took a perverse pleasure in the shock on his face.

“We should’ve never been together in the first place,” he said, his voice sharp with anger. The turmoil of the past week had set him on edge, and it felt strangely satisfying to unleash his frustration on someone else. “We knew the rules, and now  _ I’m _ paying the price.”

He didn’t wait for a response, choosing to flee the house while Rhett was still speechless. He didn’t look back.

~

Overall, the fallout from their exposed tryst was harsh but mercifully brief. Link lost a huge chunk of his clientele as the news of his relationship with Rhett spread. Efrain quit to work for another escort agency, and Link fully expected the rest of his escorts to do the same. Many of Link’s acquaintances vanished overnight, mysteriously unable to return his calls or messages.

“Typical,” he said to Becca one afternoon. She had come by his apartment to see how he was doing and had found him swamped with paperwork on the living room floor. “Typical fair-weather friends.”

She joined him on the floor at the edge of the sea of papers that surrounded him, sitting cross-legged with hands folded. Her expression was gentle. Pitying, even. Link would have almost preferred if she had been angry with him. He wanted an excuse to yell at someone.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

“What can I do?” He laughed bitterly. “I can’t run a business when seventy-five percent of my regular clients no longer want to speak to me. And any new clients I get won’t stick around long once they know that Charles Neal can’t be trusted around his own agents.” He sighed, resting his chin in his hands. A headache was throbbing behind his eyes, even though it was barely noon.

He could feel Becca’s eyes on him.

“Have you talked to Rhett?”

Just hearing the name made Link grimace. “No.”

“Link...” Becca sighed. “You can’t keep him at arm’s length forever.”

He smiled weakly at her. “Watch me.”

~

Link tried to hold everything together for another sleepless week before he admitted that it was a lost cause. Better to cut his losses and find a new job rather than waste his savings in keeping his business afloat. He wasn’t sure how to break the news to Justin or Nate yet. He didn’t even want to think about what Rhett might say.

Rhett had been texting and calling him repeatedly, but Link always had an excuse ready as to why they couldn’t meet. To face Rhett was to face his shame, to face the fact that he had torn his own business to shreds by violating one of his own rules. That was something he couldn’t bring himself to do.

Then one day while going through his mail, he received a handwritten note with nothing but “Rhett McLaughlin” in the upper left corner of the envelope.

 

_ Dear Link, _

_ I’ve tried texting and calling and I even came by your apartment, but you never answered the door, so I hope you get this. _

_ I am so sorry. My actions at Becca’s wedding were beyond selfish. I should not have pushed you to damage your professional image for the sake of my own urges. _

_ Knowing you has been the best part of this year, but I think that for the sake of your career and my sanity, it’s time for me to move on. _

_ Please accept this note as notice of my resignation, effective immediately. _

_ Always, Rhett _

 

Link stuffed the note in his pocket and ran.

~

The door to Rhett’s rooms was closed and locked. For a second, Link feared that Rhett was already gone. He pounded on the door with both fists, yelling anything he could think of, until Rhett himself opened the door, a bewildered expression on his face.

Link pushed his way into the room.

“You can’t do this,” he said, jaw clenched. He yanked the crumpled note from his pocket and waved it between them. “You can’t just quit.”

“There’s nothing in my contract that says that I can’t,” Rhett said quietly.

“But what about us?” Link clenched his fists. “You really thought you could end a relationship just by sending a letter? That’s fucking cowardly!”

Rhett's voice was rising. “Well, when you refuse to talk to me, it’s my only choice!”

“Why are you yelling at me?” Link snapped.

Rhett threw up his hands. “Because you’re yelling at  _ me _ !”

Link opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his lips. He looked away from Rhett, his gaze falling on the boxes and crates stacked against the wall. He realized that the room was practically empty, the knickknacks and decorations gone from the walls.

When he finally spoke, his voice was small.

“You’re really leaving.”

“Yeah. My flight leaves in a few days.” Rhett’s voice was equally soft. “Got some acquaintances upstate that might be able to get me into a less emotionally-draining line of work. It’s for the best.” He shut his eyes and passed a hand over his face, and when he opened his eyes again, the tears there struck Link to his core. “I told myself I didn’t care what happened to me if we got caught, but I never thought about what would happen to you.”

“So now you’re leaving.” Link knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn’t help it.

“I don’t want to leave!” Rhett burst out. He wiped his eyes again, his teeth clenched with the effort of speaking. “But what happened made me realize that it’s not right for me to stay anymore. I find myself thinking of Owen no matter what I do. That’s unfair to you. You need someone who can be here in the present a hundred percent. And that’s been so freaking hard for me.”

Link’s first instinct was to jump in with protests and reassurance, but with a shiver, he realized that he  _ couldn’t _ give Rhett what he needed. There was nothing he could do, no set of rules for him to follow, to mend the hurt that was clearly still fresh in Rhett’s mind. He crossed his arms, fingers absently massaging his forearm in a vain attempt to quiet his rising panic.

“Do you remember how I said I felt like there was glass between me and the rest of the world?” Rhett continued, frustration evident in the trembling of his voice. “I feel like that again, but it’s  _ worse _ now. Even when I’m with you, I’m still thinking about  _ him _ !” His eyes flicked up to pin Link where he stood. “You deserve better than that. It was selfish of me to ever want you. I’m sorry.”

Link closed the distance between them. He pulled Rhett into a rough embrace, needing the comfort as much as he wanted to give it.

And there, his face buried in the soft cotton of Rhett’s t-shirt as his escort’s arms encircled his shoulders, he came to a decision.

“I can still help you.”

“How.” Rhett’s voice was weary.

“I can pay off your debt.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by Rhett forcefully pushing Link away from him. He held Link at arm’s length, searching his face with a suddenly sharp gaze. “What?”

“I have the money,” Link said firmly. Now that he’d spoken his idea aloud, the way ahead was clear. He could move with confidence again. “I’ve been selfish too. And you’re right. You don’t need to be here.”

“But-”

“How much time did you take off work after Owen died?”

“I-” Rhett broke off. He shook his head, his gaze now distant. “I didn’t take any time off. The day after his funeral, I started looking for a second job. Needed the money with all the bills pouring in.”

Link nodded. “See? You never had the chance to grieve.” He caught one of Rhett’s warm hands in his own. “You’re still hurting, and I can’t heal you.”

Rhett pulled him close again. When he spoke, his voice was a breath on Link’s neck.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Link responded firmly, heedless of the tears filling his own eyes. “You’ve made me happy for the first time in years. But put Owen’s memory to rest. You need to go home. Maybe later, after you’ve taken some time for yourself and I’ve straightened things out here, maybe we could try a relationship again. But the right way, this time.”

“Okay.” Rhett chuckled softly. “I’ll miss you, Link.”

He felt his heart ache at the name. “I’ll miss you too, Rhett. But can I ask one last thing of you?”

“What is it?”

“Can we go out one more time? One more date, before I let you go?”

He felt shaky at those words. With Rhett gone, what would happen to him? How would he stop the worries in his head without Rhett’s presence to keep him safe? Rhett seemed to sense his distress. He tipped Link’s chin up and kissed him, the contact brief and feather-light.

“Of course,” he said softly.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read and left kudos or comments! This story has changed a lot since its conception, and I'm happy that y'all have enjoyed it. :) And thank you to [missingparentheses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/missingparentheses) for being an awesome beta, offering great suggestions, and pushing me to try harder!
> 
> Also I'm on [tumblr](heatgeneratingtechniques.tumblr.com) in case you didn't already know.

They dressed in outrageously bright blue seersucker suits, adding mismatched ties, wildly patterned socks, and polished brown shoes to complete the ensemble. It had been Link’s idea, to make a _statement._ What that statement was, he didn’t know. He just wanted to make sure he and Rhett were seen together.

During the ride to Club Sanguine, they never stopped holding hands.

As they strode into the club, Rhett was instantly aware of eyes turning their way, of shaking heads and whispered comments. For a moment he wanted to walk back out again, but when Link squeezed his hand, Rhett didn’t care any more.

They were denied entrance to the VIP lounges by a grim-faced yet apologetic man who said he was just doing his job. Rhett saw the flash of indignation on Link’s face before he nodded in understanding. Certain luxuries were off-limits to them permanently now, thanks to their ill-advised relationship.

It felt strange to be an outsider again. Rhett had grown used to being in the middle of the crowd. He’d enjoyed the attention of clients and guests alike, yet now he and Link were relegated to the fringes. Instead of relaxing in a private lounge, they pushed their way up to the crowded bar. Link bought drinks for them both. They found a booth in a corner, where they sat side-by-side and contented themselves with watching the people as the music blared and pounded around them.

Rhett expected someone to challenge them. He was prepared to exchange words (and, if things escalated, blows) with anyone who might want to gloat over Link’s downfall. Instead, all they got were sidelong glances and the knowledge that certain clubgoers were giving their booth a wide berth.

He leaned close to Link’s ear and shared his observations, adding, “They probably won’t bother you because I’m so tall. I can look pretty mean when I want to.”

Link only laughed. “Whatever you say, Rhett.”

The words were condescending, but Link’s tone was gentle. He looked much younger in his suit, topped with a smile that seemed almost shy. He looked more relaxed than he had in days, and Rhett told him so.

“I don’t have anything to hide anymore!” Link said, flinging a hand towards the club at large. “You’re leaving and my business is dead and I’ll have to find a new career path, but that’s okay.”

Rhett winced. “I told you, man, you don’t need to pay off my debt—”

“And I told you, Rhett, that outside of the money I spend on my apartment, I am the cheapest person to ever exist. I have plenty of money. Don’t worry about it.”

He was telling the truth, Rhett thought. When Link lied, he smiled, fidgeted, avoided people’s eyes. Tonight, however, he held Rhett’s gaze, his face firmly set.

“Okay.” Rhett nodded. “I trust you.”

They talked more, about topics that Rhett barely remembered later. Link’s hand found his knee beneath the table, and he could concentrate on little else beside the gentle pressure of those long fingers.

When Link’s hand began making its way up his thigh, Rhett decided that it was time for them to leave.

~

Their footsteps drew them to the river first, less than a mile away. Cars rushed past on the freeway above them, but otherwise, all was calm and quiet. This late at night, the only other people around were the occasional couple or cyclist. Their bright suits drew a few curious glances that made Rhett grin. He’d take whatever attention he could get.

They strolled slowly, the lights of the boathouses on the far bank glittering on the water like stars.

“It’s like the sky,” Rhett murmured.

“Mm?” Link grinned, his face turned up towards Rhett. He looked relaxed and dreamy thanks to the combination of alcohol. And the fact that Rhett had just kissed him.

“The lights on the water. Like the night sky in liquid form. You think I’d be able to fly if I jumped in?”

Link wrinkled his nose. “No, but all the garbage and chemicals in the water might give you some sort of disease.”

Rhett laughed. “Why you gotta stomp on my dream, man?” he said with mock indignation. “You don’t want to see me strip down nude and get all wet?”

Link chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a pleasant shiver through Rhett. “Don’t need to go swimming to see that.”

His arm was around Rhett now, the tips of his fingers just pushing beneath Rhett’s belt.

“Want to go back to your place?” Rhett’s face was suddenly hot.

“Of course.” Link’s grin was devilish and beautiful in the shadows, his teeth shining. “I have a surprise for you.”

~

Back in the bedroom of that familiar apartment, Link turned off all lights except for the lamp on the nightstand. He pushed Rhett to sit on the bed and told him to close his eyes.

“No peeking,” he ordered. The fingers of one hand trailed down the curve of Rhett’s cheek, leaving tingles in their wake.

There was a rustle of clothing, the clink of a belt buckle, and Link saying, “Okay, open your eyes.”

Link’s clothes lay on the floor in a heap. In its place, he wore a shimmery pair of tiny silver shorts. When Rhett’s eyes met his, he put his hands on his hips and struck a pose.

“Couldn’t find any gold ones like the ones you wore.” Link looked down at himself and adjusted his waistband in the nonchalant manner of someone who knew he looked good. “Still, these aren’t that bad.”

“A-agreed.” Rhett let his eyes trail over Link’s body. He wanted to memorize everything about him, from the sharpness of his clavicles to the slim length of his legs.

Link removed his glasses and tossed them onto the dresser behind him. Without them, his eyes were hidden in deep shadows. There was something about the set of his jaw that almost made Rhett shiver. He grinned crookedly.

“You lookin’ at me like you want a show.”

All Rhett could do was nod.

Link laughed at that, his voice low and dark. He moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. Hips undulating fluidly, one hand dipping beneath his shorts as the other combed through his hair. He stroked himself a few times, the movement of his hand beneath the silver fabric leaving Rhett hot all over. It was all he could do to stay seated. Every fiber of his being wanted to surge up and slam Link against the wall, but Rhett held back, forcing himself to drink in the sight of Link with his eyes. There was something almost beautiful about this torture.

Then Link returned to him. Out of habit, Rhett moved to grab him by the hips, but Link stopped him with a quiet sound.

“No touching,” he whispered.

Rhett exhaled shakily and let his hands fall to his sides. He was rewarded with gentle fingers in his beard and an almost predatory smile.

“Good.”

Rhett had never been on the receiving end of a lap dance before. He’d given his fair share to clients in the past, but he had never been the one sitting entranced with hands clutching uselessly at the bedsheets around him. He had never found himself lost in the gaze of someone who controlled him so completely. Now he fully understood why some clients were unable to keep their hands off him. He could _feel_ the heat and lust pouring off Link’s body, and his own body was quickly responding in kind.

Rhett focused on the sound of their breathing, on the sensations of Link’s thighs just ghosting over his legs. And just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to resist any longer, Link sank onto his lap.

Before Rhett could draw a breath, Link’s mouth was on his, tongue delving greedily into his mouth as his hands carded through Rhett’s hair. But before they could fully settle into the kiss, Link pulled back. Rhett chased him halfway, hands now bunching the silver fabric of Link’s shorts. It was a few moments before he could find his voice.

“Copycat,” he whispered.

“Hey now, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” Link’s eyes were bright. “Just want to give you something to remember me by.”

Rhett pressed a reassuring kiss to his collarbone. “You talk like I’m not coming back.”

He expected Link to laugh and crack a joke, but instead he smiled weakly. “I worry.”

“Hey.” Rhett offered a smile of his own. “After everything you’ve done for me, it would be difficult for me to stay away.”

They kissed again, more slowly this time. Link quickly eased Rhett out of his clothes, unbuttoning and unzipping with shaky but deft fingers. He pushed Rhett back onto the bed and climbed astride him. Everything he did was surprisingly gentle, from the way he touched Rhett to the sweet words he whispered into his skin. Rhett gave himself over to him, pressing his head back into the sheets as Link’s hands did their work.

When Link finally entered him, their fingers intertwined, Rhett closed his eyes.

It was only later, when they lay tangled and satisfied on Link’s bed in the dark, that Rhett realized that he was going to miss this.

He would miss the surety of Link anchoring him to the present. He would miss the knowledge that an upturned face and strong arms awaited him when he grew weary from work. He would miss the familiar weight of Link straddling him and the way Link’s teeth showed when he gasped Rhett’s name.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Rhett asked softly.

“Yeah.” There was a smile in Link’s voice. “You caught me off-guard for a minute there.”

Rhett chuckled. “Well, you hid it pretty well.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice with hiding how I feel,” Link murmured.

The words sent a guilty pang through Rhett, but he pushed forward anyway. “How do you feel about me leaving?”

“I don’t need to hide how I feel from _you_ ,” Link chided him gently. “Not anymore. I don’t feel good about you leaving, but I know you need this. And maybe I need it too, so I can figure out what to do next.”

One of Rhett’s hands found its way into Link’s hair, where he began massaging his scalp in slow circles. Link hummed his approval.

“I have friends in the film industry,” he explained with a yawn. “They run their own production company and make commercials and short films. I’ve always wanted to know what doing that might be like.” He poked Rhett gently in the side. “Maybe when you come back, we could work on something together.”

“Maybe,” Rhett agreed. “That could be fun.” He liked the thought of being in a public relationship with Link at some point, the two of them working together as equals.

“But until then...” Link yawned again, longer this time. “Until then.” He trailed off, and Rhett didn’t need to see him to know that he had fallen asleep

~

The ride to the airport was tense. Link drove a car he’d rented for this occasion, insisting that it would be easier to say their goodbyes without a driver’s impatient presence. As they sped down the highway, Rhett sensed Link’s nervous energy, his desire for them to drown out the silence with small talk, but his own mind was already far away. He thought about seeing his family again and visiting his old haunts. He thought about visiting Owen’s grave, emotions already stirring in his chest at the memory of that plain gray headstone.

As they pulled off the highway onto the airport exit, Rhett chanced a glance at Link. His face might as well have been chiseled from stone, his jaw clenched tight. It was Rhett’s turn to want to speak, but they were already pulling up to his terminal.

Link popped open the trunk for him to unload his suitcase. For a moment, they stood awkwardly on the sidewalk by the car as people bustled around them, neither meeting the other’s eyes.

Rhett couldn’t think of anything to say. Leaving Link behind in the city felt like a tortured mixture of leaving a loved one in a burning building and setting sail without an anchor. He settled on pulling Link in for one last kiss. It was brief, but Link was smiling up at him when they broke apart.

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Rhett,” he said, absently smoothing the front of Rhett’s shirt. “Focus on what you need to do for your own peace of mind.” He caught one of Rhett’s hands in his own. “You’ll do that, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Rhett’s voice was a whisper.

“When you’re ready, I’ll be here.” Link brought Rhett’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently, the touch of his lips leaving Rhett’s knuckles tingling.

“At your service.”


End file.
